1000 Ways and I Can Name One
by SimplePassion
Summary: A thousand ways to tell the Stoll brothers apart and I can name you one. Travis and Connor centric one-shots featuring characters from PJO/HOO. Genfic. Chapter 28: Luke - strengths
1. Hermes - Beginning

**Hermes — Beginning**

Ages: Travis (1) + Connor (0)

* * *

Hermes can still remember the day he met _her_.

A drunken night out with his two half-brothers. Strobe lights flickering over confetti littered asphalt. L.A. club music pounding through the still night. A slender body pressed against his back.

He remembered a voice, almost angel-like, saying hello. Molten caramel eyes that dance under the light. Laugh twinkling with genuine mirth. Hair, thin and hazelnut, threading through ringless fingers. A smile that draws him in and makes him yearn for more.

Ravenia Stoll was wild, free-spirited, and had stolen Hermes's heart when she stole his wallet that night.

There was the initial sadness at first, waking up to an empty bed. But Hermes suppose it's best. After all, what happened with May, with Luke, would never happen if he didn't love and cared so much.

Hermes gathered his belongings, checked his emails, groaned at the messages, and promptly took off, hand absent-mindedly searching for his wallet. Thoughts of last night have all but left his mind.

Nine months later, Travis Stoll was born in the bathtub of a cheap, rusty apartment of downtown San Francisco.

His screaming filled the night sky as he came into the world.

His mother picked up her bags and leave to fill her job as a con-man. In a flash of white light, Hermes appeared and picked him up from the cold tiles, wrapping him in a blanket and laying him on a couch. He wrote a mental note to himself to guide his son to Camp Half Blood when he's older. Then he disappeared to finish his deliveries and soon forgot about his son's existence.

It's not like he didn't care. He cares for all his children!

He was a busy god with numerous children all around the world. He can't honestly be expected to remember each and every child he ever had. It's preposterous and frankly impossible. Especially if the parent drops all contact with him and the child foregoes praying.

The only sure days he'll greet them are on their birthdays and their deathdays.

A year passed in relative peace. Hermes delivered his mail, worried about Luke, about May. He slept with women and men alike, drinking his troubles away at bars every other night.

When Hermes appeared into his newest born son's room, he was struck with deja vu. The room was strangely familiar, the darkness dashed only by the moonlight. Cooing brought Hermes's attention to the lump on the couch. A baby stared back with wide, caramel eyes and Hermes know that face. He had stared at the same face a year ago in the same dark room.

A tugging on his flying shoes made him look down. An infant, with a mop of curly brown hair, was grasping at the feathers of his shoe. Dread filled Hermes.

He bent to his knees, picking up the infant by the armpits. The baby giggled and clapped its chubby hands.

"Travis?"

"Dada!"

* * *

Connor Stoll, as much as Hermes hates to admit it, was a mistake, an accident, a blunder, a result of a drunken night out in the slums of San Francisco's night bars with his ractactious half-brothers. (Note to self: never go partying with Ares and Apollo ever again.)

There's a reason most gods and goddesses don't stay long-the fear of a second kid.

One demigod is enough to perk the ears of nearby monsters. Two in one centralized location is just a screaming radar. It brought more monsters than one mortal can handle and their mother definitely did not handle it.

She did not even acknowledge it.

Hermes can count on one hand the amount of times he has seen Ravenia in the apartment in the six years he took care of them. He sometimes wondered how Travis made it through his first year of life with such a negligent mother.

Taking care of the two infants-well, he didn't take care of them per say. Martha and George checked up on them daily, made sure they have food to eat, made sure they are warm, made sure they are entertained. But he himself definitely made sure they are clean. Hermes has given them the task of changing diapers before and the end result was not one Hermes would like to see again.

Anyway, taking care of the two infants helped reinforce his resolve to never have more than one children with the same woman.

As the father and _a god,_ one should expect Hermes to be able to tell the Stoll brothers apart.

And he can, with 100% accuracy.

Back when they were toddlers.

Travis was the one who could walk. Connor was the one who crawls. Travis can talk and Connor babbles. Travis is bigger and Connor is smaller.

Then the years passed and the differences diminished. They both grew to the same height, both have the same voice with the same inflections, both have the same interests and hobbies, and both love not telling Hermes who is who.

George and Martha were no help whatsoever, hissing comments such as "Travis is the one who hums" or "Connor is the one who likes rock music" when both brothers were doing the same exact activity.

He thanked the fates the brothers didn't seem to mind him calling them by the wrong name. It was a blessing actually. They would giggle when he called them by the wrong name and with their high-pitched voice preeminent in all toddlers, they would say, "Nope, Daddy. Try again."

They smile at him, with all the love of a child. Pure and devoted. Innocent and free.

He thought of Luke and how he'll never smile like that at him.

It's unfair of him. It's cruel. It's giving false hope, that their father will be a constant in their life, but Hermes can't bear himself to leave. Not just yet. Not when one of his children despises him and two adore him.

He won't admit it, but it fills the gap of being a disappointment.

Then Luke ran away and Hermes dropped Travis and Connor off at an orphanage, the older 7 and the younger 6.

Hermes tells himself there was a multitude of reasons why he's leaving.

His mail was piling up and complaints were filing in.

Zeus was not pleased with his lack of complete effort in his job and demands him to work overtime.

The orphanage will do a better job as their caretaker. They are equipped with the tools of raising children rather than their father who's gone all day and half the night.

The brothers are old enough to watch each other's back when monsters do come.

They have celestial weapons.

They'll be fine.

He has done all he can and it's more than enough.

This is what he tells himself as he closes the door to the old, rickety children's home.

It's what he tells himself, again and again, repeating it like a mantra, when twin pairs of eyes stared at him from the windows, hurt and confused.

He burns the words into his mind as he slips his flying shoes on, as Connor's small voice asked from open windows, "When are you coming back?" as Travis says, "Dad? You are coming back, right?"

And as Hermes took off, looking back, he told himself that the sadness in their eyes was better than burning hatred. It's better to see sad eyes then hating eyes. That their eyes were better to see than Luke's.

But he's lying to himself again. They all hurt the same.

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_

 _So this is my first time doing something like this where there's no plot and just one shot after one shot. But I always wanted to do something like this and since the Stoll brothers are my favorite characters, I decided why not. Let's do it!_ _I'm also open to your guys/gals' ideas too! (character + object + (optional) any specific events) So just pm/comment me if you want._ _I also have a tumblr! It's called Strikeanew and it's a mess of all my fandom love. If you ever want someone to talk/rant/bother, I am always on there...procrastinating when I should be studying or writing._

 _I don't have a set update schedule. Sorry. It is more of a write-when-I-have-the-time._


	2. Luke - Eyes

Warnings for all chapters from now on: cussing, words you wouldn't want to use in front of your parents.

It wouldn't be too much but there might be a few here and there.

* * *

 **Luke — Eyes**

Luke (14) Annabeth (7) Travis (7) Connor (6)

December

Luke knows better than anyone, knows more than anymore, the hardships and the unfairness of the streets. Society is against them, nature is out to kill them, and nobody can be trusted.

Luke understands that life so well. After all, that part of his life is still fresh in his mind. Just a few months ago, he was them. He was on the streets, scavenging however he can to stay alive.

That when he saw the lone boy performing mediocre magic tricks on New York City's busy streets, drawing a small crowd that cooed at his attempts, he stopped to stare for a moment. Another small kid weaves among the enthralled crowds, possibly to get a better view up close. Then the kid stopped behind the adults.

Luke's eyes narrow.

A hand pulls at his sleeve and he jumps. Luke looks down to see sharp, gray eyes staring up at him, the recipient with a small pout.

"Come on, Luke. We're going to be late," Annabeth says, drawing her scarf closer around her neck. She's shivering and Luke thoughtlessly pulls his beanie off and tuck it on Annabeth's head.

He nods and takes her hand, leading them towards the Empire State Building. But for whatever reason, he decides to look back one more time. The magician did a trick and the crowd awed in response. A total bum considering how awful the kid really is. Luke yawns and lets his eyes drift away but something caught his eye. The small kid who moved behind the adults stands on his tippy toes, obviously trying to see the show. But his hands weren't at his side. Instead, they're dipped into bags and in one swift motion, the kid pulled out wallets, receipts, accessories while zipping the bag shut in one go.

Luke stops.

"Actually, Annabeth, can you go on? I have something to do first."

"Chiron won't be happy," warned Annabeth.

"Cover for me, please?" Luke asked with a half smile, already backing towards the show, "Tell him I may find one."

He didn't wait for an answer and heads for the small crowd around the magic show.

The kid magician smiles a big, toothy smile at Luke and waves. Luke waves back but he stands towards the back, peering over shoulders. Up close, he could see how bad the magic tricks truly are. They were obviously fake and the tricks extremely noticeable.

But Luke also notice how young the kid is, probably no older than Annabeth.

It tugs at his heart a bit when he sees the kid flourishes a deck of cards with a wide, innocent smile. And in a squeaky, adorable voice proclaims his next trick.

But his purpose here wasn't for the magician. No, it was for the pickpocketer. As inconspicuously as he could, Luke let his eyes wander the crowd, searching for the other kid. He jolts when he did find the kid. Except it's the opposite.

The kid found him first.

Glaring blue eyes stare back at him from the side and Luke forces himself to move his gaze away slowly, to make it seem like he was just surveying the area, before letting it come back to the awful magic trick going on. From the second glance their eyes met, Luke can tell the magician and the kid was related somehow. They share the same hair, the same eye color.

The prickly sensation of being watched did not fade over time and the urge to look back was becoming overwhelming. Eventually, Luke gave in, quickly, just a peek, and found the kid gone.

The feeling of being watched was still there though.

Luke stuffs his hands into his pocket, fisting his wallet to make sure it's still there.

It is.

The magician screams and Luke snap his eyes back front. The kid has a cell phone out, punching the keys vigorously. His face twists into despair and he practically wails for all of New York to hear, "Oh my god, I can't believe I forget to text my mom! I'm supposed to be home right now! Ahh, I need to go!"

The kid begins stuffing all his magic tricks into a plastic bag ignoring the crowds' concerns.

"Do you want a ride home? It's too cold out to be walking."

"Do you know where your mom is? Maybe she should come to you."

"Are you cold? You're shivering!"

The words fall on deaf ears as the boy takes off down a street, weaving through the opposing crowd of walkers with ease. Luke sighs and his eyes wander around, searching for the little pickpocketer. Of course, he wasn't around and Luke was about to call it quits when he notices the emptiness in his pockets.

The wallet was gone, taken right from his hands literally.

Luke did one more useless look around for the thief but, of course, they weren't here.

He stands among the concerned crowd who talked among themselves, still clueless to their missing belongings. He stares at where the kid fled for a moment. Then he takes out a drachma and heads to an alleyway, tossing it onto a puddle of melted ice. As soon as the face appears on the gray, dirtied slush, Luke says, "Hey, Chiron. I found two."

* * *

Luke shifts from foot to foot, pulling his jacket closer to him. Even with a parka, it still wasn't enough to shut out the cold. He waited for several minutes, checking his watch before stuffing his gloved hands back into his pockets.

Several more minutes pass with him waiting and Luke begins to have doubts. He mutters, "Did I put 35th street? Oh crap...what if put 34th?"

Dyslexia is a total pain in the butt sometimes and Luke was ready to take off when a tiny voice chirp above him.

"Wait! Er, um, Luke?"

Luke pauses, take several steps back, and of course, why didn't he think to check his surroundings first?

Perched on the fire escape are the two boys, the magician and the pickpocketer. With them side by side, staring down at him with their identical, blue eyes and blank, neutral faces it's easy to see how alike they are. Too much alike. Luke can't tell who was the one to pickpocketed him.

"Hi," Luke said, waving. "You guys came."

The one on the right, sitting cross-legged on the railing, dug out a piece of paper from his pocket. The piece of paper Luke had hurriedly stuffed into his wallet prior to being stolen.

"Yeah, we did," the one with the paper said.

"'Come to 35th street. My name is Luke. I want to have a chat,'" the other kid states, standing with his hands in his pockets, "We're here. So what do you want?"

Gods, even their voices are the same.

They stare down at him with distrusting eyes and Luke hates how he can relate to that. He takes another step back so he doesn't have to crank his head so high and attempts to smile. A harmless one, he hopes.

"Nothing much. I just want to talk. Are you twins?"

The one standing frowns. His eyes spark in a way that was familiar. The way they shine, it reminds him of Annabeth. They flicker around, darting left and right before settling on Luke again. "You went through all this trouble to say hi? I don't believe you. Are you working for the police?" His eyes narrow and Luke is quick to shake his head, holding up his empty hands.

"Nope." He unbuttons his jacket and lifts his collar, "See? I not wired or anything."

The glare didn't eased up as Luke buttons his parka back up. "What's your full name?" He asks.

"Luke Castellan."

"What do you want with us?"

"Nothing much. Just want to ask a few questions. Are you guys cold? You're shivering." Luke says, eyeing the measly thin jacket they both wear. That's not enough to keep them warm and yeah, they are shivering. But their hard face gives nothing away.

It hurts to think about it. Just a few short months ago, he was them.

The one sitting shakes his head and turn to his brother and speaks in a foreign tongue. It's … Luke thinks it's Japanese, but he isn't sure. But he knows they're not happy. They're really not happy. The standing one scowl and turns around, but the sitting one grabs his wrist, shaking his head and said in Spanish that Luke definitely knows, " _lets try one more time."_

The sitting one turns back to him and with a cheeky smile asks, "Hey, Luke, we're very busy kids. We got to get enough money to eat at McDonalds and you're taking up our time. Please tell us what you want with us."

"I can buy you a meal at McDonalds if you guys want. We should get out of the cold."

Shit. A second after the words come out, he realizes how creepy that sounds.

Mr. Frowny thought so too, because he stiffens and pulls his brother back as if Luke can touch them from the 10 feet height difference between them. "We're not going anywhere with you. Come on, Travis. We're leaving."

The one sitting, now standing, the one still smiling, _travis,_ the one not pulling away but staying his ground, the one still facing him pulls out a phone. A small flip phone but still a phone. And okay maybe they're not demigods if they have a phone on them and are still alive.

"He flinched, Travis."

Travis nods, an unbelievably happy smile lighting up his face. "I told you, Connor! I told you, but you didn't believe me!"

"Okay, okay, you're right for once," 'Connor' says, eyes rolling.

Travis turns back to him still with that ludicrous smile. "You're like us then, right? The monsters come when you use a phone."

So they are demigods. Crazy demigods who carry a phone on them.

Luke tries to keep the unease out of his voice, but he can't. Not when he stupidly left his celestial weapon back at Mount Olympus and all he has on him is this thick parka and wad of dollar bills. "Look, you don't even have to be _making_ a call. Just _holding_ it will—"

"We know. That's why we took the batteries out." Connor holds up a grey rectangular. "The phone is off."

He tucks it into his pocket and step forward on their railing. "But we'll turn it back on if you keep stalling and we can all play a game of tag. So tell us what you really want with us."

A wave of emotions wash over Luke that moment.

Disbelief.

Doubt.

Pride.

But anger most of all.

They know how to take care of themselves. They know how to fend for themselves. They know to be cautious _._ They know how to _survive._

When they _shouldn't_ have too. Not at this age.

Their parents failed them.

Just like his had for him and Annabeth's for hers and Thalia's.

 _All of the gods… all of them… full of nothing but disappointments._

Luke really look at them.

At one boy with sharp, piercing eyes and the other with bright, clear ones.

And Gods, they remind Luke of them so much.

Annabeth with her perceptiveness. Thalia with her upfrontness.

Luke bites his cheeks. Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling, he blinks back the tear-pricks sensation and smiles.

"Have you two heard of Camp Half Blood? It's a special place for kids like you and me."

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Oh my gods, thank you for all the support and feedback! They're so encouraging! I thought I was alone in my love for the Stoll brothers. I don't think I said this before but I am very open to constructive criticism. Doesn't mean I take it well but I figure with more exposure, it becomes easier. Or if you want to scream to me how much you love the Stoll brothers, I'm open to that too!_


	3. Chiron - Ability

**Chiron — Ability**

Travis (7) - Connor (6)

December

 _["Hey, Chiron. I found two."]_

Chiron sat waiting in the Empire State Building's marbled floors, watching people file in and out of its doors. He checked his watch, straightened his tie, and tapped his foot. He drummed his fingers on the arms of his wheelchair, shuffled the blanket laid over his 'feet', and check that his bow, disguised as a cane, is indeed slung securely on the side.

A minute passed.

And Chiron did this ritual again. Watch, tie, tap, drum, shuffle, check, again and again and again.

His ritual stopped when there was a whistle of air, a flutter of wings, and the messenger of the Gods stood before him, still in his work clothes: brown khakis over a crisp, white polo complete with a brown mailman bag. He landed harshly on the ground, a contradiction to his normally light-footed arrivals. His countenance was disheveled, eyes darting to the entrance then back to Chiron before shooting to the entrance again. George and Martha seem disturbed as well, unusually silent and tense.

Chiron moved to stand and greet the God properly, but Hermes waved him down. He pulled his work bag closer to him.

"Chiron."

"Lord Hermes."

Hermes twisted the straps of his bag. "You know my son went for a little detour earlier."

"Yes," Chiron says dryly, "He left Annabeth to come back herself."

But Hermes didn't seem to hear the scolding in Chiron's tone and continued, "And you know Luke found two demigods."

Chiron narrowed his eyes. Although some demigods are generally distinct with the appearance of their godly abilities, it is not unheard of to find out the children in question are mortals. Archery, thieving, engineering, they're all traits that can be learned and honed. Any quality may seem like an indication when one is influenced by pity. "Yes, I am willing to lessen the punishment if they truly are—"

"They are. They're mine," Hermes interrupted.

At the revelation, Chiron raised an eyebrow. "Are they twins? Or perhaps half-siblings who came together?"

Hermes coughed, ducking his face into the crook of his arm. "No, they're...they're...sorta like twins. Sorta."

Chiron waited for more, but when it became clear Hermes was done he continued, "Ah, I see. Is there anything else I should know?"

Twins possessed more danger than a regular demigod would, so it is imperative they come to camp as soon as possible for their safety as well as their mortal parent. One demigod attracts monster just fine by 12 and Chiron saw the outcomes with twins when they become of age.

Hermes pulled on his collar. "Their names are Travis and Connor. And they're...ah...they're homeless right now."

"Is their mother with them? She could spend a few months a camp until she gets her footing—"

"Travis and Connor are homeless," Hermes corrected himself. "Their mom is in Brazil doing a job."

Chiron's brows furrowed. "How awful. Did she just left?"

Hermes twisted the straps of his mailbag again, quickly glancing at the elevator. "She left them when Travis was 2. I took care of them for a couple years after.

George hissed from Hermes's pocket, "You mean _we_ took care of him."

Martha hushed him.

The years correlated. For the past half-decade, Hermes was unusually slow with his deliveries. Chiron didn't mind, but Zeus was not pleased. He had chalked it up to the unfortunate incident with May and the Oracle, but he supposed — wait. The production went back to normal a couple months ago. Hermes couldn't have possibly...not when Camp Half Blood is…

Chiron resisted sighing, resisted letting any emotion befall on his face as he asked, "Why are they homeless if you were caring for them?"

Even with Chiron's neutral tone, Hermes's hackles rose, feathered sandals flapping faster in agitation. "I dropped them off at a local orphanage in San Francisco. Don't lecture me, Chiron. I know you're about to ask, 'why not Camp?' It slipped my mind at that moment. When I went back, they already ran away. They didn't pray, didn't really got into major trouble, how was I supposed to know where they are?"

Chiron held his composure as Hermes paced in front of him, listing excuses back and forth. The Gods aren't the best parents rather they can be some of the worst, but they do try (sometimes) and Chiron supposed that's all he can ask of them. "Well, I'm sure they'll be happy to see a familiar—"

Hermes blanched. "NO! I abandoned them, Chiron. Do you think they'll be happy to see me."

 _Then leave now if you'll scare them off_. But Chiron has lived with an Olympian long enough to coat his language. "I suppose not. It's best if you leave soon. Luke will be here any moment now."

"Okay, okay. But first, Chiron, can you see if they hate me? You're good at this kind of stuff, right?" asked Hermes with pleading eyes.

Of course, it's this.

Although it's usually Aphrodite and Demeter with the occasional Apollo on the asking ends, two of the Gods more conscious of their child's perception of them. For Hermes, this is a first and Chiron doesn't hope this becomes a habit. The Olympian Gods do not like wrong interpretations Chiron has come to know. "I'm not entirely sure I can give an accurate—"

"Do me this one favor and I'll give you free shipping for a whole year. Anywhere in the world," pleaded Hermes.

Chiron knew it was futile. Whether through his godly abilities or natural charm, Hermes always get what he wants. It has been this way for millennia, but Chiron coughed and tried again. "Still, the question is very hard to bring up in normal conversation and will be very—"

"Free _same day_ delivery," says the God of Bargains and Persuasion with a twinkle in his eyes.

And of course, he couldn't really refuse.

Chiron sighed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. If he did this and succeeded, he would save the camp thousands of drachmas. His campers would be allowed to send as many letters back home as they want rather than the two-letter allowance they're given. Chiron opened his eyes, admitting defeat. "I'll see what I can do."

Hermes flashed him a big smile. "Thanks, Mr. Brunner. I couldn't have found the tour guide section without your help."

Chiron stared blank faced at Hermes, wondering if he have a momentary lapse of madness when the Messenger God waved goodbye. Behind him stood Luke, eyeing the departing Hermes with a suspicious eye. "Hey, Chiron. Do people think you're an employee here? Then again you kinda do look like a tour guide person."

Drat, his talk with Hermes has left him unprepared. Chiron coughed, straightening as tall as he could, and said in his most stern voice, "Luke Castellan, are you aware you left Annabeth—"

"Luke said you're a pony, but you don't look like one," a little voice interrupted. A few feet from behind Luke's leg emerged a young boy with thinly worn clothes and a jacket barely hanging on by a thread. Chiron wasn't surprised why Luke felt compelled to help this boy. The boy stared at him with wide, adoring blue eyes. He tugged at Luke's hand roughly, pointing at Chiron's wheelchair. "He's the pony, right? Why isn't he half pony like you said? Is he hiding it in that chair?"

So Luke told them this much about him. At least he knows they are not frightened of his half form. Some children are. "Little one, I'm a half horse. A pony is much smaller. I don't mind being called a pony but my brethren—"

Again Chiron was interrupted. "Woah, is that a bow? Do you have arrows? Can I try shooting an arrow? Please~? I promise I won't hit anyone."

He chuckled at the boy's curiosity. It reminded him of Hermes when he was younger, when he was just a godling. Even though it has been millenniums ago, Hermes got into enough troubles for two, three gods—wait...there should be two. There should be two brothers.

Chiron turned his eyes to Luke. " You said there were two."

Luke chuckled without meeting his gaze. "Well…"

The little one piped up again, "Can you eat hay? Does it taste good?"

Chiron ignored the question, worry flaring up. "Did you lost the other one?"

Luke laughed nervously again, staring at the ceiling and scratching behind his head. "No...not exactly…"

At that point, the worry was now full-blown panic. "Did you come across a monster? Did he run away again? What happened, Luke?" To Chiron's chagrin, Luke remained passively neutral. He refused to look Chiron in the eye and made every effort to look everywhere but Chiron.

"Luke, look at me. This is urgent. We don't have time to be playing this game," Chiron pleaded.

Eventually Luke's eyes slid down from the ceiling. They lingered at Chiron for a moment before flickering slightly lower.

Then he burst out laughing.

Chiron was lost for a moment, fully set on believing Luke had befallen to the same unfortunate fate as his mother until he followed Luke's line of sight to the rear of his wheelchair and saw a boy crouching by his cane. For a second, Chiron stared at the boy because this boy there looks exactly the same as the boy by Luke.

 _[They're...sorta like twins. Sorta.]_

 _Oh, Hermes..._

The boy by his wheelchair stood up and scurried back to his brother's side, but not before Chiron saw the candies the child snagged from Chiron's pockets. He handed a piece to his brother and glared at the still chortling Luke. "Now we know he's completely useless as a partner."

Luke bent over in laughter, unable to speak. The one who snagged the candy stared at Luke for another moment before holding out a hand.

"Travis, gimme the whipped cream."

The first boy dug through a plastic bag and handed it to his brother whom promptly pulled Luke's pants open from the back, stuffed the can in, and squeezed. Luke screeched, pulling the can out, "Connor! What the heck, man? We're in public! How am I supposed to clean this up?"

"Not my problem," Connor said, tossing the canister back to Travis who put it back into the bag.

They both held wide, crooked grins. It's terrifying if Chiron might add.

Yes, these are definitely his children.

Their similarities are frightening. Both to each other and to their father.

Chiron shook his head and the shiver that went up to his back. He rolled his chair towards the elevator door, gesturing for them to follow. "Alright, the lecturing can wait. Luke, first, clean yourself up. As for you two, there must be a lot—"

"Wait."

Chiron stopped. He turned around and saw the two boys did not move from their spot, their previous smile gone and replaced by caution.

"You're not like us," Connor declared.

"You're like Dad, aren't you?" followed Travis.

From behind the duo, a man sitting on a leather chair ruffled his newspaper, catching Chiron's eyes. It lowered enough for their eyes to met and from that momentary glance, Chiron knew it was Hermes, begging with him to not say it.

Chiron looked back at the brothers, crafting his words carefully. "I do not know yet. I'm sure Luke had filled you in on the basics. I first need to confirm which parent is the Godly one."

Travis stared intently at him, brows furrowing. Then he turned to his brother. "He's lying, Connor."

Connor scowled, "You know then."

"I do not—"

But a look from Travis told him it was futile. He inherited that, the ability to detect any lie, any fib. The bargain was over before it really began.

"Who's our dad?" Travis asked.

"Which God is he?" questioned Connor.

"I…" Chiron was at a loss. It is against his policy to lie to any children, regardless of godly bloodline or lack thereof. Hermes shot him another pleading glare. George and Martha slithered out of his pocket to catch a glimpse of the twins. Hermes thrust them back into his pocket and silently pleaded with Chiron again.

 _'Please keep trying_ ,' Hermes mouthed.

Chiron turned back to the two expecting children. "I...I don't know. I might have a clue if—"

Chiron froze as Connor wailed, loud, ugly. He screamed like his limbs were being severed, like his leg cramped, like his candy stolen. Passing mortals gave them a glance, but most looked away. Connor eventually stopped his piercing scream, staring at the bystanders wide-eyed. His brother fidgeted with the bag, eyes flitting nervously between Chiron and the crowd.

Chiron didn't miss the clench of fist and the slight step back Connor took. He glared accusingly at Chiron. "What did you do? Why aren't they looking this way?"

"It called the mist. It can make mortals see things a certain way."

"So you can stab us right now and they won't even bat an eye?" Connor said, a note of hysteria in his voice.

"Woah, now. How about we all just calm down? We're not here to hurt anybody." Luke tried to calm the situation, but Connor dug into his pocket, taking out a black handheld device.

It let out a buzz that silenced both Luke and Chiron.

Held tightly in both hands was a taser. Connor barked, "So if I were to shock both of you and run away, no one would stop me?"

This is getting out of hand. Chiron ordered, "Luke, go back to Mount Olympus."

Luke was about to protest but gave up when Chiron gave him the look. Sighing in resignation, he waddled over to the elevator.

"Dad," Connor tries again, punctuating with a buzz, "Who is he?"

"I can't tell you that. I made a promise to him."

"Promises were made to be broken though," Travis said.

"That's a very dangerous mindset. Promises hold a lot of power," warned Chiron.

"Just tell us his name! It's so simple!"

"I really can't—"

"Is it Apollo? Dionysus?"

"No."

"Zeus?"

"Absolutely not."

"What other gods are there? Hades? Poseidon? Hestia? Hermes? Jesus?"

"Hestia is a maiden goddess and Jesus is not part of our culture."

"I'm not playing around anymore." Connor started backing away with Travis following. "Either you tell us who our dad is or we leave."

Hermes abandoned his newspaper, letting it get swept up in the crowd. He still sat seated on the chair and looked back and forth between Chiron and his children. The action didn't catch the children's attention, but it did for Chiron. Hermes and Chiron eyes met. 'What do I do?' Hermes mouthed.

Chiron mouthed back, 'I'll handle this.' Then Chiron turned his eyes back to the duo. "I apologized then. Would you like any supplies before you depart?"

"What?" Connor's eyebrows raised.

"I can't break my promise. I can provide some supplies, but that's all I can do for you." Chiron could feel Hermes glaring a hole in his head, probably internally wishing to burn him to crisp at the spot.

But Connor and Travis didn't leave. They stayed at their spot, becoming more anxious by the minute. Connor groaned, "So you caught our bluff. We're not leaving, not when Luke makes Camp sound so nice. But."

"You're not moving from this spot until you tell us," Travis finished for his brother. He gave a toothy grin. "You seem important so you gotta be doing something important soon, right?"

Chiron grimaced. Right, he does. In a few hours, he needs to give a report to the Olympians.

Connor caught his grimace and smirked. "We're right. I'm going to make this easy for you then." The taser went back his pocket. Out of nowhere, Connor produced a handcuff and in a blink of an eye, Chiron could feel the clink, clink of the handcuff. Connor—no, wait. That's Travis. Connor still stood in front of him. Travis ran back to his brother's side.

Chiron looks down to see his hand locked to his wheelchair.

Connor swung a key around his finger and held up a hand, fingers spread. "You have five minutes to tell us. Otherwise, the key is going to go bye-bye."

Chiron chuckling slightly. Ahh, this reminds him when Hermes was younger and his curiosity unbounded. He recalled being in this similar situation when Chiron had told Hermes he did not have the time to detail his species' entire anatomy to him. The young god had not taken well to the refusal and tied Chiron up. Fortunately for him, Hermes did not know only special material can hold an immortal down. He had broken free in just a few seconds. Unfortunately for him, that sparked Hermes's curiosity more and eventually lead to him being successfully captured.

This human-made handcuff is nothing to him. He'll just—

"I forgot to tell you something."

Chiron looked up.

Connor tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows creasing in exaggeration. "We found the handcuffs on a strange person when we were running. It said we smelled different from normal people, that we smelled like our dad. It said if we helped take off the handcuffs using this key, it'll tell us who our dad is."

"It didn't," Travis said with a blank face. "It tried to eat us."

"It didn't eat us," Connor continued. "When we fought back, it ran away. But it forgot to take the handcuff."

Chiron has a very bad feeling.

"You get why we're telling you, right?" Connor smiled.

Chiron looked down at the handcuff. At closer inspection, he could see ancient Greek inscription marked onto the side. He tugged experimentally. It didn't give.

Curse the Greek gods.

The strange person must have been a minor god that upset one of them and punished by being tied up. What luck he has, that out of all of the thousands of demigod children, it was these two that came upon it.

"Three minutes," Connor stated, three fingers up.

"Then we're tossing the key into the Hudson River," said Travis.

They grin at him, a devilish smile that borders on evil and mischievous.

If Chiron didn't have any duties to attend too, he would have been glad to play this game of theirs. Sadly, he does and there is simply no time left to dilly-dally. "Why are you so insistent on finding your father?"

Connor shrugged. "I don't really care and I don't really want to know, but Travis does. So here we are, doing this. I just want a bed to sleep."

"Don't be like that, Connor. Don't you wanna know why Daddy left?" Travis said, bumping his brother lightly on the shoulder with a smile.

Connor rolled his eyes. "He left because he thinks we're annoying. Just like Aunt Haggy and Aunt Filly did."

Travis pouted, cheeks blowing up with air. He stomped his foot. "You don't know that."

The brothers continued with their light banter as Chiron tried to pick the lock open with a hairpin. When he thought he had it, the runes glowed red and the nail melted into a puddle of metal and dye. Drat, Chiron thought, leaning his head back in his wheelchair.

"Times up," Connor said.

"So? What do you say?" Travis asked, eyes glittering.

They give a sweet smile as Chiron comes to the realization that yes, he indeed is trapped and that yes, he indeed is in dilemma.

* * *

Hermes flew next to him as Chiron walked down Mount Olympus's gold-paved paths, hand free from the wheelchair and legs free from confinement. Hermes was pouting, crossing his arms. "You ratted me out," Hermes accused.

"I apologize, Lord Hermes. I did not mean to break your trust," Chiron says sincerely.

Immediately Hermes flashed him a grin. "Ah, it's okay. Everything worked out fine, so I don't mind. I'll even give you that free shipping."

"You...will? Why?" Chiron questioned. He isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but with Hermes every rule needs to be reconsidered.

Hermes grinned mischievously at him and did an aerial flip. "I'll let you think about it."

"...Connor...inherited your bargaining skills."

"Yeah, he'll be a great lawyer one day."

"Travis has your lie identification."

"It's actually pretty strong, how much this kid trust his instinct."

"I...I feel like I'm gonna have my hands full for the next decade."

"Bingo!" Hermes snapped his fingers and winked at him, full of mirth. "Think of it as my future apology gift. They're a boatload of fun. I'm claiming them a week from now. What do you think I should get them as a gift? A magic bag that holds any sports equipment? Or a magic bag for junk food? No, they'll break into the camp store to get junk food if they want. So magic sports bag it is!"

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

 **So when I made this, I told myself I'll update the 15th and the 30th of each month. It has been three months since my last update. I'm sure none of you want to hear my excuses (it was school) so I'll move on to the apology. I'm sorry for taking so long.**

 **I don't really like this chapter due to how choppy it sounds, but something has to come out for Chiron and this was it.**

 **Note: did not mean for this to be chronological. Starting next chapter it won't be.**

 **But thank you for all the reviews and encouragement! I love each and every one of them! It isn't a lie when I say they really motivate me to write when I have time. Hopefully you'll see me 15 days from now if not at least a month. Bye!**


	4. Annabeth - Alike

**Annabeth — Alike**

Annabeth (7) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

January

To say Annabeth is curious is an understatement.

To say Annabeth is pliable is also inapplicable.

And to say Annabeth is yielding is 100% inaccurate.

So when she meets Travis and Connor Stoll who were adamantly sure they are in fact _not twins,_ but full on— same mother, same father— _brothers_ , it caught her interest. Not because of its possibility, but because of its impossibility.

"Are you sure you're not twins?" Annabeth asks for the umpteen time. And for the umpteen time, Connor rolls his eyes, shoving cereal into his mouth, and Travis groans, letting his head fall smack on their dining table.

It was a week after New Years. Everybody already left for school since Winter Break is over. Cabin 11 table is wonderfully free. Free enough that Annabeth can sit cross leg on the bench and there's still room for others.

She doesn't want to admit she done anything but pester the brothers since their arrival, but she will. She did nothing but pester the brothers for the entire two weeks they been here and today is the 15th morning of pestering.

They sat together on one side of the table with Luke and Chris on the other. Castor and Pollux sat further away on their own table. They think they're being inconspicuous but Annabeth could see they're interested. Who isn't? It's been forever since Camp got someone new and as weird as Travis and Connor.

Travis, who sits closer to her, picks up his head and looks her in the eye. "Yeah, we're sure. I'm older and Connor is younger."

"Even with twins, someone has to be born first," she points out.

And Travis nods, concealing a yawn behind a hand. "But I'm a whole year older than Connor, so we can't be twins."

Annabeth presses, "But how do you _know_? You can't really remember Connor being born when you were one year old."

Travis yawns again and turns around, talking with Connor in a weird tongue.

Chiron says it's a mixture of Chinese and Spanish.

Supposedly, some children of Hermes can pick up languages quickly. Chris thinks it's cool to have someone to speak Spanish with, no matter how broken it is. Annabeth thinks it's rude because now there's no way for her to understand what they're saying.

They talk freely, way to fast for Annabeth to pick up any words she might know. When they were done, Travis turns back to her, a bit more awake, a bit more alive.

"We just know," he said as if that means anything. Connor shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Annabeth grits her teeth.

She came to know something of Travis since their arrival. He doesn't like fighting, not verbally at least. He's quick to soothe the situation while Connor more or less does whatever Travis does or stays quiet.

Normally it wouldn't bother her if someone is like that. It's good in some cases. The problem is Travis doesn't seem to _care_ they might be twins rather than brothers. _He doesn't care_ about something so important and crucial to their identity, something as important as their godly parent, and that's unimaginable.

"Gods don't make a second child," Annabeth tries again, "The only way for someone to have a sibling is to be like Castor and Pollux, born as twins."

Travis sighs and leans his head on a hand. "We're special then, I guess."

He doesn't care.

Luke pipes up from the other side, flicking his spoon accidentally and spraying the table with oatmeal. "I don't know, guys. I met dozens of demigods while running and I never met siblings with the same godly parents."

"Okay, we're wrong. You're right. I'm a twin and Connor is my twin brother."

That's also another thing Annabeth comes to know about Travis. He's really easy to irritate.

Connor stops eating, spoon afloat above the bowl.

Annabeth still presses on, "Both of you are identical, right down to your looks and personality. If you're not twins, then I'm going to say you're clones."

Travis rolls his eyes. "Okay, we're clones."

Connor looks at his brother from the side and frowns.

"I was kidding about that."

"Okay, twins. It doesn't really matter because—" Travis starts to say, but there is a clang of metal against ceramic. Connor leans in towards the table till he could see Annabeth past his brother.

"Why do you keep asking us again and again? We already agree with you," he snaps, his first words in this conversation. He's irritated too, but that didn't deter Annabeth.

"I think you're twins," she states.

She expects Travis to agree with her and he did, but Connor didn't. He glares at her as he declares, "We're brothers."

"I don't think so."

"I think so."

"I don't."

"I do."

"No."

"Yes."

Travis pulls on his brother's sleeve, a forced laugh coming out. "Let's just all forget about this. Fighting isn't good."

Annabeth scowls as Connor pulls back, but he caught her scowls and gives her one in return.

Connor pulls his sleeve away and jumps over his brother's lap until he was the one sitting next to her. "You're wrong," he insists.

"Prove to me you're brothers."

Travis groans loudly when she said that. "Why do you have to say that?"

Annabeth casts a wary eye towards him, but it shot back to Connor who grins widely.

"Fine," he says, "When I prove you're wrong, I want to know your biggest fear."

"And if I'm right?" she countered.

"You're not," he says with a note of finality. It bugs her.

"But if I am?"

"You get the same deal." Then Connor is marching away towards their cabin.

Travis is quick to follow, abandoning his strawberries (Annabeth swears all he eats is strawberries…) and running after Connor.

Luke snickers and Annabeth turns her glare at him.

"You know," he says between slurps of orange juice, "You and Connor are so alike. It's scary."

"Us? How? I don't get so worked up," she snaps.

And Luke rolls his eyes. "Okay~, Annabeth. But you know what they say about self-perception, right? It's hard to see yourself if you never own a mirror."

Before Annabeth could give a retort, Connor came back. He climbed onto the bench and slams a stack of paper between him and her. "So I got pictures, papers, and something called birth tickets or whatever I snagged before we ran. What do you want to see first?"

Luke gives her a look and Annabeth blows a raspberry in return.

She points at the stack. "It's called a birth certificate. I want to see those first."

 _After all, those can be faked, right?_

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _It always stuck out to me how Travis and Connor are really not twins, but brothers. Only Jason and Thalia, Nico and Bianca are like that. Man, that's so special._

 _I learned the secret to a fast update from me:_

 _1\. Keep it short. If you have more things to add make it_ into _another chapter, you stupid, stupid girl._

 _2\. Don't get caught up with imperfections, settle for what you have._

 _So with that, here ya go...only two days late (but hey better than 90 days late, am I right!)._

 _Thank you to WifeofJaceHerondale, Callitte A. Benvenuti, and Fiction is the Truth for reviewing! I really appreciate it!_


	5. Percy - Height

**Percy — Height**

Percy (12) - Travis (12) - Connor (12)

During The Lightning Thief,

Right after Percy's claiming

Having a cabin to himself is lonely.

Eating is even lonelier because then he can see how alone he is.

It sometimes makes him wish his cabin would magically fly into the ocean so he can stay at Hermes cabin again.

Then his table creaks and two people sit across from him.

Travis and Connor...from Hermes? Yeah, from Hermes.

They're identical, right down to the crooked grins they have.

"Hi, Percy," one said.

"Hey, Perce," said the other.

"Hi, Travis, Connor."

From the other side of the pavilion, he could see Annabeth giving him a look. She turns away when Percy stares back.

"We're gonna go try out the climbing wall. Wanna join?" Travis or Connor said and Percy is quick to finish his lunch.

* * *

"Do you feel sorry for them?" Annabeth asks him the next time they meet, those words being the first thing said when she stops him from entering his cabin and drags him to the bridge above the creek.

He can't think fast like her so he asks, "Feel sorry for who?"

"Travis and Connor."

"No. Why?"

And Annabeth turns away, hands clasped behind her back. "It's hard for them to make friends."

Really? He would have guessed the opposite. "Why?"

"They don't trust people easily." Annabeth scuffs the wood with her shoes. She turns back to face him.

"But they trust you."

And Percy felt there was an unspoken message then.

 _Don't break their trust._

* * *

After a few days hanging out with the brothers, Percy comes to realize there's a problem.

No, it's not how whenever they seem to get into trouble with Clarisse, they expect him to protect them. It's not how they whine about their cabin being too full and how Percy is so lucky to have so much room without listening to him how it's not that great. It's not how they wake him up in the middle of the night to go stargazing when in reality they were testing a prank and needed a test dummy.

It's about how he can't tell them apart.

Whenever they're out together, he would always say "Travis and Connor."

Never just "Travis" or just "Connor."

And let him ask you: do you have any idea how difficult it is to address a group when you're trying to talk to an individual?

Well, neither does Percy until he has to.

Most times he's careful enough to say both names. Other times, he wasn't so careful.

Like now.

They're grinning at him. They usually smile like that when they're about to pull a prank or when someone is about to fall into their prank.

"What did you say, Percy?" one asks.

"What did you call me?"

They caught on to him. They caught on he doesn't really know which brother is which.

"Haha, what do you mean?"

But he still tries to fake his way out. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe they're still clueless.

"We mean, just a second ago, when I was talking about how much I love strawberries. You agreed, then turn to my brother and said a name. Which name did you say?"

 _Father, please help me._

"Connor, of course," he says as confidently as he can.

Connor and Travis look at him for a long time.

Sweat trailed down Percy's head.

Then the brothers shrugged and went back to talking about their favorite food.

And Percy let out a silent sigh, willing his heart to be still.

He can't play this game anymore.

He _needs_ to find something to tell them apart.

* * *

Annabeth says one is more argumentative (they both are), Luke says one has a sharper glint in their eyes (what?), Chiron says one is a better at hustling (neither ever hustle around him), and Clarisse flat out don't care.

 _Just call them whatever, Prissy._

All are unhelpful and highly impractical in Percy's opinion.

What he has is the best there is.

See, Connor is shorter. Just a little bit shorter, but shorter nonetheless.

Although it's hard to tell when they're not back to back, it's nothing a little shove and nudge till they are back to back can't fix.

Sure, they might roll their eyes and Connor might poke fun and Travis can't stop laughing, but at least he knows who's who at all times.

You can fake stubbornness and powers, but you can't fake how tall you are.

"What are you going to do when we're not together for you to measure?" Connor asks one day with a sly grin, standing on his tippy toes to throw him off.

And Percy smiles in response, "That's never going to happen. You're always together, right?"

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Clarisse was supposed to be next and Chris after but you know...I didn't like the end result. So they're in the bin of revision._

 _I'm kinda early, but it's because I'm watching a movie with my friends, The Death Cure, and will have to study for three exams next week plus a paper to write. Might as well post it now then forget and post it three months late._

 _I also have the next chapter done! Isn't it amazing how inspiration works?_

 _Thanks for all your comments! I'm really glad people are still reading even though there's no plot._


	6. Percy - Alone

**Percy — Alone**

Percy (17) - Travis (17)

January

3 months after the Blood of Olympus

* * *

[What are you going to do when we're not together for you to measure?]

[That's never going to happen. You're always together, right?]

* * *

They're not together anymore but it's easy to tell them apart.

Because one is here, in New Rome University, while the other is back at Camp Half Blood.

He's only visiting the University, intending to loan some SAT books from the library when he spotted Travis sitting in the dining hall. But something stopped him from shouting out.

He's sitting around a group of Mercury kids who jests and laughs, but his head is low and the fork in his hand lazily pushes around vegetables.

The plate is full.

It's weird, kind of painful, to see the forever grinning, forever talking Travis like that — silent, brooding, a not-a-frown-but-not-a-smile on his face.

Is this how they are alone?

He couldn't really do nothing so he strides up to Travis and sits down across from him. And he's reminded of long ago when he was twelve and ate alone.

"Hey, Travis."

Immediately, Travis's bored face was replaced with a grin. "Percy!"

But it was forced. It didn't reach his eyes.

Still, Percy forces himself to smile back. "How you been?"

"Great, a lot better than last quarter. I'm actually on top of all my work this time. Can you believe it?"

"Really? Wow, I'm already falling behind in my classes," he says, the lightness in his tone indescribably fake that even Tyson can see through it. But if Travis notices, he didn't comment on it.

Percy notices Travis doesn't have the same problem.

"We should study together then, I know this great cafe in the plaza. But we might have to fight for a table. Those fill up fast. That cafe is my favorite study spot. The coffee there tastes amazing and the people are really nice."

He talks like nothing is wrong and Percy can almost believe nothing is wrong.

"Hey, Travis?"

"Hmm?"

"I been hearing around that you don't really pull pranks anymore. What's up with that? Did Reyna got to you or something?" He tries to make it into a joke.

It isn't.

Because honestly? Travis? Pranks? They're synonymous, expected.

"Oh."

The grin is more strained now.

Travis fake ponders, looking off to the side to avoid staring at his face. "I don't know. This isn't Camp Half Blood. I feel like if I mess around, I'll get into real trouble."

"I'll bail you out," Percy blurts before he could stop himself.

Bail him out? He's not going to end up in jail for Tantalus's sake.

Travis laughs but he could definitely tell it's fake. The people around them turn to look and Percy could feel their judging gazes.

You failed as a friend.

Travis stands, taking his plate with him. "I'll see you later, Percy. Let's get boba together sometime."

He gives a final smile and left, taking his still full plate and Percy's self-confidence with him.

A legacy of Mercury turns to him once he's out of ear range. "That's Travis Stoll?"

Percy nods grimly.

The kid grimaces. "I thought he would be more of a party person. I was super hyped, but he's the most studious of us all."

Another person nods in agreement. "Guess not all Greeks are laid back."

And further down the table, a son of Apollo, "Hey, this is the tenth time he didn't eat dinner and we all know he skips lunch. Does he eat a big breakfast or what?"

A daughter of Venus taps him on the shoulder. She gives him a sympathetic look and points down. "I know you're worried, but maybe bring a plate with food next time so it doesn't look so obvious."

Percy stands too and said goodbye. He weaves through the tables to where Reyna sat with her two loyal dogs. They perk their ears when he approaches.

"Reyna. Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk with you. It's kinda private."

She nods and follows him out their dining hall and to the praetor room. "What is it?" she asks.

"It's about my friend, Travis."

And he took out a piece of drachma and flip it into the fountain.

"I need to talk about him with you and Annabeth."

* * *

 _Author's note:_

 _Yeah, I'm...I just really like Percy interacting with the Stolls. I don't know why. And I also love angst so there's that too. And while we're on that topic of what I love, HAVE YOU ALL READ: Olympian Legend by SinisterClown13? One, Travis shows up a lot and is freaking awesome. Two, the Avengers are there and also freaking awesome. Three, Percy is McFreaking awesome there._

 _If you all have any Travis or Connor fanfiction recommendations I would love to read them!_

 _Update 2/15:18: I read Lucky, Guest! It was really good._

 _(Just gonna assume Travis went to the same university as Percy and Annabeth.)_

 _Also Guest: I know I'm not a good writer. And I also know I have a tendency to over-dramatize everything. (Sorry for that but I really really like drama so…can't help it). Come off anon. I'm not going to bite. Or if you don't have an account at least tell me what is wrong. And this goes for everyone reading too. Please don't be afraid to leave me what you honestly think. I'm asking for it anyway._


	7. Hermes - Time

**Hermes — Time**

Travis (16) - Connor (15)

August

Post Second Titan War

* * *

They're big now. Like his height big if he is in his mailman form.

Mortal years may be nothing to an immortal's, only a speck in their vast lifetime, but it has only been a few years and they grown feets. They shouldn't be this tall yet! Or has it been more than a few years?

They're talking about a fallen granite that used to be his aunt's statue. They both look uninjured, only sporting a few bruises — wait, one of them just sits down and they're holding their knee.

Is that a grimace?

Is he hurt?

No…

No, he was just making a face.

The other laughs, lightly punching the first's shoulder.

If they're laughing then everything should be fine, right?

Hermes hides silently behind a wall, watching and wondering if he should say something to them.

The last they interacted was when he claimed them.

The last they talked was when he left them at the orphanage.

Chiron _says_ they harbor no ill feeling. But that was years ago. What about now? When they're much older and much more cognizant of the world?

He takes a hesitant step forward and another and another, but he stops short of clearing the pillar.

Now is not a good time. Not with Luke's recent passing.

They're about to hold a meeting to thank the demigods who fought for them. Olympus is in shambles and in need for major repairs. Thousands of spirits are sending him emails and letters to deliver, the pile growing exponentially by the second.

Whatever he was about to say can wait.

Hermes turns around and flutters away.

But it was like Luke's spirit still hung in the air. He could see his face twisted in anger and bitterness as if he's disappointed. Disappointed at how quickly he's falling back to his old ways of negligence and abandonment.

So he drops to his feet, turns around, and marches over to the brothers.

* * *

Two seconds after making that decision to be a better father, Hermes wants to take it back. Because he realizes something as he is walking, the brothers turning towards him as he draws closer.

 _Abort. Abort. Abort._

He doesn't know who's who still.

 _Abort. Abort. Abort._ There's still time. He can pop out of existence and say it was just a phantom, like Helen's phantom Hera made. He could say he was being impersonated by another god or spirit. He could say—

"Dad?" The one standing said, a smile sprouting on his face.

The other didn't say anything, didn't do anything except just stare. Then he looks at his brother, sees the _beaming, absolutely delighted_ smile and he plasters the same grin on his face.

It raises a few questions, but Hermes pushes it aside in his mind. He'll pick it apart later and instead raises a hand in greeting. "Hey, kiddos." He hopes they didn't notice the way his voice wavers in the end.

 _Who's who, Who's who, Who's who?_

"I saw you two fighting. I'm so proud of you."

They both said thanks. Is it his imagination or is one slightly less enthusiastic?

Their names are on the tip of his tongue, ready to come out.

Travis and Connor Stoll.

Do they still not mind being called the wrong name? It has been years. Maybe they grew to hate it? Should he still try?

His pocket squirms, George slithering up from the thigh pocket of his mailman khakis. _Connor likes to sit. Travis likes to stand._

 _There's no basis for that,_ and he nudges his friend back into his pocket.

"Are you both okay?"

They both nod, one is slightly delayed.

"I'm glad. How's camp been?"

Great, they said together again. Okay, one is definitely less enthusiastic than the other.

Martha slithers out and brushes against his hand. _Travis looks more like you. Connor looks more like his mother._

 _They share the same face,_ and Hermes nudges her back too.

"Are you both eating alright?"

"Yeah." "Yeah!"

 _Travis likes to smile,_ George comments.

"Are you both getting along?"

"No, I hate my brother. That's why I decided to share everything I have with him." "Yes, but I wish he would stop being so sarcastic."

 _Connor likes to snark,_ Martha inputs.

"How is Chiron?"

"Chiron is fine." "Chiron is peachy!"

 _Travis likes you more. Connor likes you less._

"Who taught you to fight like that?" At that, they froze. The one sitting drops his grin, replaced with something like contempt. But only for a second. Then his face became neutral. The one standing still smiles, but it's strained and uncomfortable.

They didn't need to tell him because their reactions were enough but they did anyway.

"Luke did."

And Hermes draws up a blank for what to say next.

The silence between them didn't last long. The one sitting points behind him. "I think Athena wants you."

Hermes turns around to indeed see Athena waiting for him.

Saved.

Oh, thank the fates was he saved.

He said his goodbyes quickly, flittering to Athena's side. They walk down the ruined hall to their throne room.

His half-sister gives him a pitying look, mouth opening to say something Hermes definitely knows is wise.

So Hermes walks faster.

God of Communication his ass.

He rather be God of How to be a Good Father.

* * *

He doesn't call it eavesdropping. They weren't trying to hide it at all. If they were, he wouldn't have heard. But they didn't and with his Godly ears, he hears one brother sighs in relief. The other humming.

"That was fun! I hope he comes by to talk with us more."

"I don't. That was the most awkward five minute of my life."

"Come on, Con-Man. He's trying. If he's trying with us then he's trying with the others too. Don't discourage him."

"He should stop. It's too late for us. We're too old to think of him as anything but our absentee dad."

"Shhh, don't be so loud."

"He isn't going to zap us. If he does then all of his kids will fear him. He'll lose their respect."

"Why do you always have to be abrasive? Sometimes it's good to lie."

"Lie? To the God of Liars? I'm sure he already knows what a faker I am."

"Can you please stop? I don't want to lose my only sibling. Do it at camp where we can count on Chiron to keep us safe. Oh, dude, I'm actually kind of hungry. Do you think Olympus have any stores we can raid?"

"' _Can you please stop? I don't want to lose my only sibling_.' Do you really think the minor gods won't smite us for stealing?"

"Stop mocking me. Are you in or out?"

"Definitely in. I want more candy. Come on, let's hurry and get it before Katie ruins all the fun!"

Then Hermes shuts them out.

* * *

 _A/N: For Deonyisucc on AO3 who wanted Hermes. Do you all know my favorite Greek god is Hermes? And do you all know my favorite ship for Hermes is Apollomes? And do you all know the amazing author that made me convert to Apollomes? pssst, it's Cobaltdreams! All of your fics are so good. I have a tentative order for the posting: Will, Clarisse, Chris, Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth, and then Katie._


	8. Will - Injury Prone

**Will — Injury Prone**

Will (12) - Travis (14) - Connor (13)

Sometime during Book 3: The Titan's Curse

* * *

The Stoll brothers aren't bad people.

They really aren't.

The time he spent in the Hermes cabin had been fun and enjoyable. (If you exclude the hours he spent watching his back for pranks.)

Travis and Connor are friendly for the average demigod (up to a certain degree) and lenient compared to the other counselors (again up to a certain degree). They work hard to make sure their cabin actually seems like a home. It feels like you been there since forever and known everyone since forever.

Will had actually been a bit sad when he got claimed.

The Stoll Brothers aren't bad people.

They really aren't.

But they're scarily vengeful.

Phoebe's burns from that centaurian blood coated shirt are proof of that.

She's seething in his infirmary right now as he treats her hives.

There are some very detailed threats flying from her mouth that is making Will very, very fearful for the brothers' lives. He nods along quietly but from the back of his hand, he tosses two drachmas into his fountain and whispers "to Connor and Travis" as he passes by to get some bandages.

He looks back to make sure that the message is getting through — it is, he sees their twin faces — and hopes they're taking precautions in case Phoebe follows through with her threats.

She did a day later.

He heard the stories — ' _did you hear? That hunter got into a fight with one of the Stolls.' 'Who?' 'It doesn't matter. The other one tried to break up the fight and got an arrow in the thigh.' 'Oh dude. Which brother was it?'_ — long before he sees him in the infirmary.

He should have expected it.

It's always Travis who gets hurt in their wacky shenanigans.

Travis is grimacing and whimpering quietly to himself, but wipes it all away when Will enters the empty infirmary. He laid the supplies — a foot stack of gauze, wrapping tape, a bag of ambrosia — down on the table beside the bed.

Will looks at the wound. A thick arrow is lodged four inches deep in the upper thigh, just medial of the femur. A camp shirt is wrapped around the wound and kept in place with a well-binded gauze tape.

It's Lee's handiwork. Lee's the only one who can tie something so well.

Will set about unwrapping the bindings. He says dully, "I warned you."

Travis grins—but it's lace with pain rather than his usual light-heartedness—and tries to slug him on the arm playfully. Tries. Fails halfway because it jostles his leg. So Travis just shrugs and the pained grin tries to play itself off as nonchalant.

"And I listened like a good camper."

At least Travis still has the mind to joke around, Will noted. That's a good sign.

Will throws the ruined shirt and tape in their biohazard bin and lines up his supplies beside the leg.

"Then what happened?" he asks as he slips on his gloves, snapping it over his wrist.

Travis chuckles, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "Phoebe made a comment about our cabin. I can't blame her. You lived there so you know what a mess it is. Connor didn't like that and they got into a fight. No weapons or anything. It was all verbal. I could barely understand half of what Bees was saying."

Bees...Phoebe...He wonders if Phoebe will appreciate that nickname.

Will snaps the ambrosia in thirds and press two pieces into Travis's hand. "Don't eat it yet. What happened after?"

"I…" Travis is eyeing the ambrosia, throat gulping. The pain must be imaginable and Will readies himself in case he does need to rip the ambrosia from his hands. "I tried to stop their fight, but I guess I forgot the memo where you should never approach a hunter from behind. Those hunting instincts, man. Someone needs to train it out of them if they ever want to make friends. She shot me out of surprise and luckily Lee was nearby to take care of me."

"You're lying."

Travis laughs. Years of Will treating his injuries and demanding a reason why he's hurt lead them to this point. It sort of became a tradition.

"Yeah. I guess nothing can be hidden from you, huh?"

"Tell me the truth."

"But you'll rat me out to Chiron."

Will's about to argue. He knows Travis will give after a few more pushing, but the way Travis winces and whimpers hold him back.

Later he'll ask. When he isn't in pain, then he'll start the interrogation.

"Does the arrow have barbs?"

Travis looks clueless.

"Does the arrow have pointy things sticking out on the side or was is straight?"

"I don't remember. I wasn't looking at the tip. Why? Does it matter?"

"No, no. It doesn't matter." And Will feels that twinge of guilt from lying. _It'll just be more painful if it has barbs. It'll tear everything on its way out once I pull._

Will holds the gauze in his left hand. He looks at Travis, sympathetically. "I'm gonna have to pull the arrow out so you can eat the ambrosia. It's going to hurt."

Travis nods. His face was already pale so it couldn't become any paler, but Will could feel the breathing comes heavier.

Travis' right hand grips the bed's metal railing tightly, while his left bunches his shirt together.

Will grips the body of the arrow with his right hand and readies the gauze.

"One, two, three." Travis flinch, but Will continued on.

"Four, five, six." Will doesn't even have to look to know Travis is staring at him. He can already hear his whining. ' _Why are you like this, Will?'_ he'll probably say.

"Seven, eight, nine." Travis is still tense.

"Ten, eleven, twelve." He's still taut.

"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen."

"Will, if you don't hurry and get a move on, I'm going to—"

The muscles become lax and Will pulls it out, slapping the gauze over the gushing wound.

Travis hisses behind closed teeth. He rocks back, knee nearly colliding with Will's temple as Will fights to keep his hand on the wound.

"Eat the ambrosia," Will orders, grunting as he pushes Travis down, his writhing almost uncontainable.

The ambrosia flies into Travis's mouth, so fast Will thought he would eat the hand too.

The gauze soaks with blood and Will press a new gauze on top of the old.

"It hurts," he whimpers with clenched eyes.

Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he swallows the crumbs, a low whine in the back of his throat.

"I know, I know," Will soothes, throat clenching as he could only watch. "I'm sorry I can't do anything for the pain. It'll go away soon, Travis. Just hold on for a little bit longer."

Eventually, the wound closes with the divine food. When Will no longer have to slap on new gauze, he leans up on the pressure, just barely. "Does it still hurt?" he asks.

Travis looks a bit better. There's color returning to his cheeks as he squints and rocks his leg side to side. Travis shakes his head.

And Will ease up on his death hold.

"Try moving your leg to see if anything is wrong," Will says, repeating the camp's procedure for embedment injuries. The ambrosia should heal any muscle damage that occurs and if not, it's nothing a little more ambrosia can't fix.

It's a rather sucky procedure in Will's opinion. He wishes Chiron can get the infirmary some anesthetic agent.

He hates having to hear his friends in pain.

Maybe there's a hymn he can learn.

When Travis shakes his head again, Will removes the blood-soaked gauze, throwing it in the biohazard. The wound site is still a mess of blood and bits of tissue which Will is quick to clean up. He doesn't remember who, but one of the brothers is queasy with blood.

He rather not have the recently healed camper become violently sick in his infirmary. Smells linger that not even Febreze is capable of covering up.

Travis groans, leaning back on the bed's pillow. "This is the worse day of my life. I hate being shot at."

"I think nobody likes being shot at," Will quips back with a smile, half at Travis's words and half at the satisfaction the wound is indeed closed, as he finishes wiping. He checks Travis's forehead, frowning slightly at the heated skin. Too much ambrosia leads to fever, but the amount he gives him should be his baseline. Did he have some ambrosia earlier today?

Travis cracks open an eye. "Really? I would never have guessed."

Before Will could retort, the door to the infirmary creaks and Connor peeks behind the partially open door. He's shaking, eyes teary, and definitely not looking fine.

 _Oh, gods, did Phoebe do something to him too?_

But Connor only asks, "Is he okay now?"

"Yeah, but I was going to get Chiron to make su—"

Without a glance at Will, Connor pushes the door open all the way, marches in, grabs the neighboring pillow, and tries to kill his brother.

The way he whacks Travis with that pillow seems _absolutely_ deadly.

Will definitely does not want to get in between that.

"You." Whack. "Fucking." Whack. "Idiot." Whack. "I didn't ask for your help." Whack. "Why do you butt in everything?" Whack. "I'm going to kill you." Whack. "And Will is going to relieve you." Whack. "So I can kill you again." Whack. Whack. Whack.

"Will, save me!" Travis wails, arms up in defense from the raining blows.

And Will did try.

"Ahh, C-Connor? As the camp's medic, I don't advise hitting a recently treated patient with…"

But then Connor turns his raging eyes to him and Will stops trying. He packs his supplies up, waving goodbye on his way out.

"I'll come back later with Chiron, Travis."

"Wait, Will, no. No! Will, come back, please. You can't leave me. Help me! What kind of friend are you! Will, you donkey hole, come back here!"

* * *

Author's note: I'm not a doctor or a nurse as you can tell by my butchered first aid help. All I know is that if you're ever impaled by an object, it needs to be wrapped so it can't move around as you go to the hospital. I know pulling the object out is a big no-no because of the quick blood loss.

Do you think camp have any sort of general anesthetics? And do you think they'll give it to the kids to use if they do happen to be injured, even though there isn't a trained anesthetist there? Or do you think with ambrosia and nectar all healing nature, the campers just endure the pain?

ON A SIDE NOTE: I FOUND MY NEW FAVORITE ANIME! HOUSEKI NO KUNI. (Land of the Lustrous) It's so beautiful. All the gems are beautiful. I would die for them. I would sell my soul for them. They're absolutely adorable. I need to protect them all. (No spoilers! I only watched the anime. But depending on how obsessed I am I may seek out the manga. What am I saying, I will seek out the manga).


	9. Clarisse - Fight

**Clarisse — Fight**

Clarisse (17) - Travis (17) - Connor (16)

June

during mark of athena

—

The Stoll brothers are cowards.

C-O-W-A-R-D-S.

Fucking cowards, both of them.

This isn't based on unfounded reasons. Hell to the no. In the 8 years since she knew the pranksters, the 3 they been fellow counselors, and the 129 times her cabin spars with theirs not once did she face them in training.

Not freaking once.

They don't think she notices, but she does.

The sick leave notice? The passing of responsibility to Chris for the day? The 'homesick/dying/new' camper who 'desperately' in need of their care?

They couldn't have been more obvious.

Well, this day she caught them, caught their lie smack in the middle. Their horrified faces and pitched screaming as she drags them with her by the collar is a major boost to her day.

Eyes from both her and their cabin are on them when they enter the arena. Chris opens his mouth, but thought better and closes it.

Good.

Nothing is going to save these skipping bastards from her now.

Clarisse let her hold on their shirt go, them falling to the ground in surprise. She steps into the ring, a circle of rocks placed strategically—code for thrown wherever—to ensure safety.

She addresses the one who stands first. "Come on, Connor. Pick up the sword. You're the test dummy of the day."

"I'm Travis."

"Whatever."

Travis didn't follow, instead staying at the edge. His brother whispers into his ears with a cupped hand.

Clarisse scowls, "You're taking too long. We don't have all day."

They didn't acknowledge her which ticks her off immensely.

"Hey, you're done talking. Get in here."

Travis nods one last time to his brother. He steps into the ring with Connor shouting after him, "You got this, Travis! We believe in you! Good luck!" Then in the same breath, turns to one of his half-sister, "You're losing a counselor today."

They all snicker, Clarisse including, but she's not underestimating him. No. There's a reason why he's standing here before her, perfectly intact, after surviving two wars.

"Finally you're here, Grandpa," she snorted at him. She addresses her bystanders, a mixture of Ares and Hermes campers, "Watch and learn. I'm going to show you how to disarm your opponent. Your fraidy-cat counselor is going to turn into an even more of a fraidy cat."

Travis rolls his eyes. "Oh wow, Clarisse, you have such a way with words."

She strikes first, raising her sword up and bringing it down with a quick swipe. Travis steps back sideways rather than bring his sword up. Smart. He's not known for his strength. If he stayed, Clarisse is sure he couldn't block it.

She lunges again and Travis retreats. Lunges, retreats. Lunges, retreats. Lunges, retreat. Lunges, ret— no, he counters. Her sword clashes against his, metal scraping against metal. Travis grunts and stumbles back, feet planting in time to regain balance.

Clarisse smirks and leans forward. Travis pushes back with barely enough force. They continue like this for awhile, Clarisse slowly applying more and more pressure. He's having trouble pushing back. She could see the strain in his face. It breaks with Travis sidestepping suddenly, not that Clarisse wasn't ready for that.

She regains her balance and turns around to face — he's gone.

No, he's not. Clarisse looks over her shoulder and at the sword coming to her.

Travis is fast.

She'll give him that.

But he lacks — and she brought her sword up — the strength to actually do any damage.

She blocks his blow, pushing the blade down so the hilt is exposed. With deft hands, she grabs the sword's handle and tilts it further until Travis' hold is weak. Then she yanks it out of his grasp.

Giving the sword a twirl in her hand, she delights in Travis's shocked face. There's something off though… it doesn't seem genuine, but she shrugs it off. She won. That's all that really matters.

"Everybody got that? Push your opponent's sword to the side and grab the hilt."

Then she turns to Connor and threw his brother's sword before his feet. "Your turn."

Connor takes a step back, chuckling with apprehension. "D-Do I have too?" he stammers, "I mean, we need time to train the others the move, right?"

Clarisse narrows her eyes. There's something about his tone that's not sincere. She doesn't know what but it sounds fake. Oh well, who cares? She's pummelling both of them tonight for avoiding her all these years.

"Don't you two do everything together?" she snaps, "Are you really gonna let your brother be embarrassed by himself? I didn't know you were that type of person."

Connor's eye twitches minisculely, barely noticeable.

She doesn't know them enough to tell them apart, but she definitely knows how to push their buttons. Insult one and the other will get angry.

This wasn't the case, she guesses, because Connor continues to whine, "Come on, Clarisse. We all know you are the strongest."

"Pick it up."

"It has a name, you know."

Clarisse rolls her eyes. "Who cares? Pick it up."

Connor whines one last time but bends down to pick up.

Travis yawns, stretching his hands over his head. He didn't seem bothered by the loss. Heh, this is why he'll never improve as a fighter. The embarrassment of a loss is what fuels Clarisse to improve, to be stronger so she'll never have to lose.

"I did enough?" Travis says, nudging Connor in the shoulder on his way out of the ring.

Connor raises his head and smiles maliciously. "Yeah, you did."

Clarisse doesn't care what that grin means.

Connor steps into the ring and clamps down with both hands on the handle, pointing it at her. Clarisse did the same.

"Same rules."

And she lunges, Connor falling back.

Clarisse learns quickly Connor isn't as fast as Travis. Not even a little bit. He barely dodges her attacks. His guards are around one and a half second slower than his Travis'. His strikes two seconds later than Travis'.

The only difference is that Connor has a cooler head. Travis jumps at the first opening he sees. Connor doesn't. Not that it means much. When he does attack, it's always foiled.

Now she knows why he's so adamant to not fight.

What a coward.

Connor tries to push her sword to the side but it is so easy for her to push back that it's not even funny. She takes a step forward and Connor takes five steps back, quivering in his shoes.

This is pathetic. Clarisse wishes Connor puts up more of a fight.

Travis's speed is what makes him formidable. Without it, he would be just the average joe.

Connor's not fast like his brother. He's not particularly skilled and quick-minded like Percy, nor is he fast and intimidating like Nico.

No, he fights more like — _piece of shit —_ more like Annabeth. Sharp-minded, calculating, observing, efficient.

Clarisse notices too late

A foot is sweeping across hers.

She's stumbling back and Connor rips the sword out her hands.

Clarisse falls on her butt, grunting at the impact.

Connor smirks down at her and waves her sword tauntingly.

"People always underestimates the little brother," he says, "I thought you knew better. Obviously not.

Travis snickers, high-fiving Connor as he walks back to him.

"Okay, break up into pairs!"

"We'll go around and help you each individually."

* * *

Later that night, she marches into Hermes' cabin, bang open the door, and stomps all the way to their bed.

Travis peers over his magazine with no care but tumbles off his bed when he sees Clarisse. That didn't deter her in the slightest as she stomps pass the bed and fists Travis' shirt with her hand, lifting his face to hers.

"You threw our match on purpose so your shit brother could watch, you little shit."

"No cussing in our cabin," Connor says with a smirk, peeking down from the top bunk.

Clarisse glowers at him and looks down to see the same disgusting smile on Travis's face.

"We do everything together. I thought you knew that?" Travis taunts.

Her fist tightens and she brought Travis closer to her. The smirk drops of his face— _good_ — and he laughs nervously. "Er, sorry?"

She lets his shirt go and watch him fall to the ground, his elbow landing hard on the floor. Connor scrambles down from the top, giving Clarisse his own scowl.

"You okay, Travis?" And Travis nods, blowing a raspberry at her.

"Again. My cabin and yours. Tomorrow. I already arranged it."

And she marches out, ignoring the groans of Cabin 11's residents.

 _Why did you guys have to win? You should have both lost. Now we're all gonna suffer again._

She's going to get her revenge. No one makes a fool out of her and gets away with it.

* * *

 _Author's Note: I was supposed to work on this over Spring Break._

 _Did. Not. Work. On. It. At. All. I blame my brothers. I did nothing but watch anime._

 _How do you write action scenes? I'm always scared to write for anime that's action-heavy like Naruto or Bleach._


	10. Chris - Prank

**Should I have posted this when it was actually April Fools Day? Yes...Yes, I should have.**

* * *

 **Chris — Prank**

Chris (8) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

— April 1st—

pre the lightning thief

Chris waits patiently inside Cabin 11, peeking out the window occasionally to scan for his two new half-brothers.

There's an itching in the back of his mind. He's forgetting something important but he can't for the life of him remember. Oh well. All that matters right now is pulling this off right.

He drums his fingers on the floor, bounces his legs, tugs on the rope lightly, watches that bug crawl along the floor, listens to twin laughs—

They're coming! He hears them talking.

Chris pushes himself to his feet, scurries to the wall beside the door, readies his hand, and listens closely for that door to open so he can pull the rope.

Their porch groans. The door rattles. And Chris yanks on the —

"Wait."

The door didn't open and Chris barely stops just in time.

 _What?_

"I think Chris is in the horse stables," one of the brothers said.

Chris' brows bunch. _Who told them that?_

"Really?"

"Yeah, I remember Luke saying our cabin has cleaning duty today."

"Okay, let's go."

And the door is closing.

 _They're leaving,_ Chris panics.

What should he do? He can't afford to stay here for however long he needs to stay. Not moving for so long is already starting to get to him. What are the chances the next visitor will be them? What happens if it's Annabeth? She'll spoil it for them for sure. What should he do?

There's no choice. With a heavy heart, he opens his mouth. "I'm right here."

They didn't say anything. Did they already leave?

"Come out then."

"We have Spanish class, remember? Annabeth is getting impatient."

Chris lightly slams his head into the wall. _That's what I was forgetting._

"I can't," he lied, "I don't feel good. I think I'm getting sick. Can you get me my water bottle?"

For the longest time, Chris is left without an answer. The porch creaks and groans heavily and Chris went to check outside to see if they're still there when a voice, so quiet he thought he imagined it, utters, "You're lying to us."

 _Crap._ Chris drops his lie. "I want to show you two something."

Again there is that moment of silence. Chris peeks over in the window to see them arguing and waving their hand at the door. He tries to read their lips, but he thinks they're speaking in Chinese.

Chris narrows his eyes. _What's going on?_

But the brothers turn back to face the door and Chris ducks his head away.

"Okay, fine. We'll see what you want."

Chris swears he hears ' _if it hurts him, I'll kill you'_ but he shakes it off as the wind.

The door pushes open and Chris yanks the rope tied to the bucket overhead, watching with glee as it tips over and dumps flowers over them.

They stare unimpressed at him.

"What is this?"

Chris deflates at their lack of enthusiasm. Why does this always happen? Why does nobody appreciate or even acknowledge his pranks? They're fun, aren't they?

"It's a prank."

One of them brushes flowers off the other's head. "A prank is covering someone with flowers?"

Chris shakes his head. "No, a prank is a trick you play on another person for a laugh. It shouldn't hurt them though. That's not a prank."

Chris hesitates. Annabeth's pranks hurt. And so do Luke's. And Castor and Pollux are relentless. Only Lee's pranks don't hurt, but his, by far, are the scariest.

"Sometimes they hurt," he rephrased. Chris didn't miss how one of them tensed. "Have Lee got you yet?"

"Why would he do that?" one asked, unease clear in his voice.

"Today's April's Fools Day. It's our tradition to prank each other at least once, Conn...uh...Trav—"

"I'm Connor," the uneasy one said, pointing to his brother. "That's Travis."

Travis is staring at him wide-eyed, eyes twinkling. "So we get to mess with people and we won't get into trouble?"

"What is Lee going to do?" Connor asks, tugging at his sleeve with bunched brows. "Will it hurt?"

Their door slams open and Luke marches in, very, very smelly and very, very dirty. He stands before them with his hands on his hips and… is… is that poop on his face?

"Chris, what the heck, man! I was waiting for them in the stables for so long! I had to stay in there with the pegasi and their disgusting remains for hours."

Luke snags the brothers by the arms, pulling them out the door. "You two, come with me. I wasted too much time and my health to let this go to waste."

Connor latches onto his hands and, with pleading eyes, asks him to save them. Travis follows Luke with no resistant but his hands snag an air horn off the floor.

Chris shakes Connor's hold on him, ignoring his accusatory glare.

This is their tradition, one that practically honors their dad. He can't butt in whatever Luke is planning.

* * *

Travis turned the prank on Luke.

Annabeth told him first on her way back from the stables and he sees that for himself when Luke is stomping pass the cabins to the washroom.

Chris watches Luke grumbles and whines as he tosses his poop-covered clothes into the washer. By the entrance, he sees the brothers snickering.

One lifts an air horn and honks it.

Luke jumps and glares at the departing, laughing duo. He thrusts the rest of his clothes into the washer and jabs the wash button. "I'm going to get them back," he hisses through gritted teeth.

Chris snickers. "You're the worst at pranking though."

And Luke turns his glower to him, shoving a finger in his face. "I don't want to hear that from the most boringest pranker."

Chris shrugs and looks at the washer. "At least I can pull it off. You forgot the detergent by the way."

His older brother groans and pries the door open, Chris snickering at his counselor's cursing.

Luke gets careless when he's flustered.

* * *

Lee loves jumpscares. Lee also loves his trumpet.

So Chris wasn't really surprised when his afternoon nap was broken by a trumpet solo of Robert W. Smith's Locomotive Chase, twin pair of screams, and a booming laugh.

He rises when he hears the cabin door slams open and the squish, squish of wet shoes. Rubbing the last remnants of sleep away, Chris peers down from his upper bunk.

He falters for a moment. They're drenching wet. From their hair down to their shorts. _Oh, they must have fallen into the lake._

Before he could say anything, Connor pulls his drawers open more harshly than need be. He snatches pencils and paper out before pushing it back close with just as much aggression. "I'm gonna get Lee back. He's going to pay. He's going to suffer. He's going to—"

"Be pranked!"

"Going to beg for mercy."

"Let's get everyone too! Castor, Pollux, Annabeth, Clarisse, Chris, Luke, Chiron, Clarisse, Luke again."

"Lee is going to regret messing with me."

"Hey, doesn't Lee like to practice in the music room? We can tape an air horn to the door so when he opens it, HOOONNNKKKKK! Oh, and Chris loves strawberries, doesn't he? I know the store has whipped cream. We can mix it with red dye and dot it with white paint. We can sneak some in for breakfast! Oh my gods, I'm so excited. Ican'twaittoprankeveryone. Thisisthebestplaceever!"

Chris swallows and pulls his blanket over him.

Traditions were meant to be broken, right? There's no way he can let them prank him if he knows what's coming. That's not fun or genuine so he should just save himself the—

His bed dips. Someone grasps the end of his blanket. And he vaults off his bed before the cover could be ripped off.

He lands feet first on the ground, face trembling as he looks behind him to see two devils smirking down at him. Connor raises a silver, unlabelled canister.

"You let Lee and Luke prank us," he accuses, "So now we're gonna get our revenge."

His younger brother looks _furious_. His other younger brother looks gleeful.

And that's not a really good combo to have at all.

Chris gulps and dashes out of the cabin, failing to notice the trip rope at the entrance that snaps, tipping a bucket of water over him.

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _ **I'm not really a pranking person. Like... I probably never commit a prank on anybody that aren't my brothers so this chapter was really, really difficult.**_

 _ **I don't think I said this enough but I appreciate every one of you who reads this fic! I really, really do and I can't express how thankful I am some of you continue to read each new chapter. It really warms my heart and makes me all fuzzy inside :)**_

 _ **I'm going to try to stick with my schedule because the whole point I wrote this fanfic other than my never-ending love for the Stolls is to have daily practice with writing. But school is kinda ugh and my internship is taking a large part of my energy so please understand if I may not follow my schedule.**_


	11. Cabin 11 - Problem Solving

**Cabin 11 — Problem Solving**

Travis (14) - Connor (13)

End of June

Post - Sea of Monsters

—

I hate camp.

I hate _camp_.

I hate camp _so freaking much_.

There's no one responsible here. No one who is even a _little_ bit decent. Mom said this place would be fun. I'll learn how to fight and know who my real dad is. But so far, all it is are kids snickering behind my back, kids saying I'm from the "traitor" cabin, and kids doing a whole bunch of ass-kicking.

I wish my dad would hurry up and claim me. I don't want to stay here. I hate it here. I want to go back home to California. I want to go home to mom and Buddy. I want to go—

"Hey, Martin?"

I raise my blankets a little bit to see … what are their names again? Those twins? Brothers? I forgot. But they're my 'counselors,' whatever that means.

"What's wrong?" one of them asks. I wish they wear name tags. I hate twins for this very reason. I never know who I'm talking too.

"Nothing is wrong." And I throw my blankets over my head.

I didn't hear them move away, but I also don't hear them at all. Did they leave and I just didn't hear them? I peek under my covers to see that they'll still there and they're still looking at me with worry. I wonder how much of that is actually real and how much is faked for their job. This is their job, right? They don't really care for me. They don't care about anyone here.

I lower the cover and turn my back.

They're still not leaving.

Fine. Whatever. I'll tell them and I sit up on my bed, cocooning myself in my blanket.

"It's the bullies again. They keep saying 'jack of trades, master of none.'" It's stupid. I shouldn't be upset. If I look at it closer, it means I'm okay on all things. There's nothing I'm bad at. But their voice is so irritatedly patronizing, I hate it so much. I hate them so much.

One of them smiles. He snaps his fingers. "Then just say, 'better than a master of one.' All Ares knows is fighting, Apollo is either archery or healing. Hephaestian children can only do crafts. We are all of those things. We're more useful than they'll ever be. I mean, that is if Hermes claims you. If you end up being claimed by one of those three, then forget I said anything."

The other smiles too, but in a more sinister way. It kind of scares me. "Do you know who they are? We'll prank them for you."

The first one perks up and I notice he has a crooked smile. "Or that. We can prank them into oblivion if you want."

Pranking sounds more fun.

"It was two girls," I say. "They both have blond hair and they'll 2 inches taller than me. I think they each have at least 2 beads."

One turns to his twin. "Travis?"

 _Travis and Connor! That's right. Their names are Travis and Connor._

Travis nods. "I don't sense fibbing."

And they both stand. "Don't worry, we'll take care of it." Connor says, "So, Travis, you're the brainstormer. What kind of trick do you want to pull?"

Travis smiles again and I wraps my blanket tighter around me. He's scary... but Connor is also scary. They're both scary.

"It's Mikaela and Michelle from Apollo Cabin. Do you remember Mikaela is really scared of worms and Michelle is scared of spiders? Let's fill their shampoos with them."

I fall back onto my bed and closes my eyes.

 _Yeah, right._

There's no way someone can do something like that.

I want to go home.

* * *

"Are you sure, dear? You have only been there for a week."

"Yes, I'm sure. Everybody here is really mean. They all make fun of me and the people I'm rooming with. Nobody tries to stop it and nobody tries to help me—"

I thought back to my counselors. They were going to do something. A prank or something stupid like that. They're probably lying. People don't keep their promises.

"I want to go home. Can you come pick me up?"

"Okay, sweetie. I'll be there in two hours. Can I talk to Chi—"

Someone screams.

Mom jumps and asks me what's wrong. I told her I'll be right back and races outside. There's a huge crowd in the center of the cabins. People are arguing but I couldn't see who. I shove my way to the front, ignoring the annoyed grunts and glares.

I see Travis and Connor. They're standing in front of two boys, one with blond hair restraining a boy with black hair.

"Let me go, Lee. I'm gonna kill these two idiots!"

"Calm down, Michael. Let's all talk to Chiron together in the Big House."

Travis, or Connor, sees me standing by the side and waves. I wave back hesitantly.

No...They couldn't have...

But no more than a second later. There's a screeching cry from Apollo's cabin. "IT'S STILL IN MY HAIR!"

I think it was that moment I liked Camp just a teensy, tiny bit.

* * *

Chiron later said an announcement during dinner that "No bullying will be tolerated" and that all incidents should be reported to him. No counselors should take the matter into their own hands.

Travis and Connor snicker on our table. Chiron turns a sharp eye on them and repeats it again. _No counselors should take the matter into their own hands._

Dinner resumes and I ate with a smile for the first time.

"Hey," our counselor said with a warm smile and we all look at him, "If anyone is ever bothering you guys, just tell us. We'll take care of it."

The other nodded, his mouth full, "That's what family for, ya know? Don't think you'll ever bother us. I _love_ pranking. It is my life. I can never get bored of it. I have _so_ many ideas for _so_ many people. Help me put my plans to fruition."

"Travis, chill. You'll scare them."

"Me? Scare them? Your uptightness will kill them sooner than me."

Family...

I guess I'll give this camp thing another try.

Who knows, maybe this whole 'war' thing will blow over in a month or two and I'll get to see what camp is really like.

* * *

 **Author Notes:**

 **I watched Avengers: Infinity Wars and I gotta say (no spoilers because I'm not like that), best. movie. ever. I just spammed my brother with memes of the movies. He's tired of me. I know he is.**

 **But yeah, any comment and/or criticism is welcome!**


	12. Annabeth - Trust

Cont. of Annabeth - Alike, Chapter 4

 **Annabeth — Trust**

Annabeth (7) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

Travis Stoll is a pain.

Seriously.

A pain.

* * *

Annabeth could feel the dread growing as she rifles through the paper. Yeah, they're definitely not twins.

May 21st. Connor Stoll.

June 20th. Travis Stoll.

She raises her head dejectedly. Connor is smirking at her, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

She only looks back down to rifle around some more.

Maybe she misread.

But nope. The dates are definitely different. They are definitely not twins.

"So?" Connor says with a smug smile.

Travis stares at his bowl of cereal. Luke downs his glass of orange juice. Chris toys with his shirt.

Annabeth sighs, putting the paper down. "You're not twins."

The smug smile grows smuggler. "And?"

Annabeth grits her teeth. "I'm sorry."

"And?"

Travis drops his spoon and shakes his brother by the shoulder. "Hey! Let's drop it okay?" But Connor only rolls his shoulder and shake the hand off.

"No, we made a deal. You're wrong, so tell me your biggest fear."

"Why?"

"Just tell me."

"Spiders. I don't like spiders."

And Connor wrinkles his nose in disgust but it is quickly followed by a grin. "Thanks."

* * *

Annabeth expected something.

She knew something was going to happen.

She just kinda expected some kind of teensy-weensy spider somewhere in her belongings. In her bed. In her food. In the bathroom. She was absolutely ready.

But a tarantula?

Connor was lucky Luke was with him after she killed the spider. She would have killed him next.

* * *

Luke says they're here to stay for the long run, that she should try to make friends with them. And even though Annabeth nods and says she'll try, she won't.

Maybe that's why the Fates decided to have the ceiling cave in that day in the inventory. She had heard horrendous creaking and it was her quick thinking alone that she manages to pull both of her companions back by the back of their shirt before one of the ceiling's supporting rod comes crashing down.

Dust and dirt flew into the air and Annabeth coughs, waving her hand to clear the debris.

Her heart falls when she can see. The fallen pillar blocks the exit, their only exit. There's no windows. No ducts to get out with. They're trapped in here.

The pillar was huge, but that didn't stop Connor from trying to lift it. It didn't budge at all. It's useless. They only thing he's going to succeed in is getting splinters.

She is going to say something and she was about to until Travis pulls on her shirt. "Connor just wants something to do," he says, sitting down on the ground caked with cockroach poops.

Annabeth wrinkles her nose and crouches, but not sitting, beside him.

"Hey, Annabeth," Travis started, head tilting to the side, "What does undetermined mean again?"

Annabeth grits her teeth. She hates this topic. Everybody in the Hermes cabin hates this question. She means, it should be obvious from the name alone. 'Undetermined.' Not determined. Seriously, what's so confusing about it? But she sucks it up and answers anyway. "When you're undetermined, your parent hasn't claimed you."

"Are you undetermined?"

"No, I'm claimed. I just don't like sleeping by myself in my cabin sometimes." She rests her chin on her cheeks. Before summer ended, Luke had told her about all the undetermined in his cabin. He said some have been there for years and hate being reminded they're not claimed yet. Annabeth frowns. "You shouldn't ask people if they're claimed or not. It's not nice."

"Huh." Travis leans his head back with a face like he couldn't understand why. "How long does it take—"

"It depends," she interrupts, "Some people get claimed fast like you and your brother. Others, not for years." And some, never as she thinks about to that summer when she saw one left from Hermes cabin in the middle of summer, unclaimed. The necklace she left behind on her bed had 10 beads.

She hopes her tone tells him she doesn't want to talk about this topic. And Travis remains silent. Thankfully. Until he's tapping his heel on the floorboard, drumming his fingers on the wood, and predictably, he turns to her again with a new topic. (She should have known. He can't keep quiet.)

"Are you still mad Connor left a spider in your bed?"

"Yes. Very," she seethes.

"Sorry."

 _You and your brother aren't the same_ person, she wants to say but she bit her tongue. If Annabeth is being honest with herself, Travis is the nicer of the two. Does she really want to make the both of them hate her gut? But supposedly that's her fault for starting the fight. Which she could understand. But a tarantula? How did Connor even get his hands on one?

She's going to get even.

She will get even.

She'll even the score and inflict the same amount of fear and terror that she felt right onto the playing board, gonna launch a rocket onto the mountain and make it a plain. Connor's gonna regret messing with her.

A hand on her sleeve pulls her from her thought. Travis looks at her with that tilt. He has another question. "Why are you a yearrounder?"

She's quickly learning to associate that tilt with undesirable questions.

"It's personal," she answers harshly, maybe too harshly because Travis winces and twiddles his thumbs.

"Okay."

Connor is still trying, and still failing to find a way out. He gives up trying to move the fallen pillar, instead is now screaming for help in a very loud, very irritating way.

It's useless. Everyone is in the middle of Greek Language right now. They won't be done until half an hour from now.

Connor let out another ear-piercing scream for help that almost burst her eardrums. Annabeth couldn't help thinking Lee would love him. Lately, he's been looking for someone to sing songs with. She moves to stand, to go somewhere where Connor can't burse her eardrums, but a hand latches onto her shirt again. "Can I ask another question?"

Annabeth shakes her head, tugging her shirt free and taking a few steps forward. "No, I'm getting out of—"

But Travis asks it anyway. "Do you hate us?"

She didn't say anything. Hate is a strong word. Dislike would be more suitable.

Travis kept talking. "Connor think everybody hates us. Even Luke and dad. He thinks nobody likes us and that we're bothering everyone."

Annabeth clenches her fists. _Bother...everyone._ Why does it hit a chord in her?

"I don't really remember much about our dad. All I know was he left us at an orphanage. And they didn't like us at the orphanage."

"Why?" she asks, but it strikes her a second later: the reason why she left home, the reason for the fights and worry between her family. It's because of —

"The monsters but the others see them as just creepy boys and girl. We would see them everywhere too: in the orphanage, outside on the yard, and in the hallways. I tried telling them they were monsters with this big eye in the middle or monsters with black, wrinkly skin but none of them listen. The other kids used to say how we're Satan or the devils since the monsters start showing up when we came. Then one of the kids disappeared. Mrs. Aggy talked about moving us away to a smaller home because we're hurting everyone else. Nobody wanted us there."

 _Hurting everyone…wanted…_ She closes her eyes. It didn't take much to remember her own home and the problems, about her dad. How he asked for Athena to take her back. How he has to be lectured why he's supposed to care for her. How he took her stepmom's side over hers. Over everything. And how they fight, how her mom wanted her sent. How they look at her and relented her existence. How nobody wanted her there.

Connor's still screaming, oblivious to their conversation. Or maybe he does know and doesn't want to talk about it. She opens her eyes and looks back to Travis who stares at her with wide, blue eyes that seen the same things she did, faced the same problems she did.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Luke said how you and Connor are alike. Connor was the one who said we should run away. So we did. You ran away too, didn't you? Luke said you did." Travis said with his head high. Annabeth grits her teeth. Once she gets out of here, Luke is getting a lesson on confidentiality.

"And also," Annabeth raise her head to see Travis blank-faced. "Luke said birds of a feather flock together and that we should talk to each other so we can become friends."

Annabeth sits down on the floor next to him. "Did he really said that or are you making stuff up?"

"I'm telling the truth!" Travis says, hurt in his eyes and mouth in a pout. "Luke told me I should tell you our past so you'll be more easier to make friends with. He said you're too full of pride and that it really stinks like — eek!"

Annabeth's glare cuts his sentence short and for a moment, Connor stops screaming to look back. But Travis waves his hands and even though Connor frowns a little, narrows his eyes a little, even takes a tiny step towards them, he still turns back to screaming for help. But it's a quieter, not as focused as it could be, and it's so easy to tell with how he stands what he's doing.

Travis sighs and scratches the back of his head. "I guess we're done talking."

He stands to move away, but she snags the ends of his shirt and tugs once. And when he turns that questioning set of eyes to her, she lowers her head. Birds of a feather flock together. "Before Luke, were you lonely?"

Travis cocks an eyebrow. "Lonely? I had Connor."

"But nobody else?"

And Travis seems to understand. He shrugs his shoulders. "Nobody is worth believing in. They all just fail us."

And she remembers Luke's words, from all those months ago, but unbelievably clear in her memories. His promise. Her relief. Their kindness.

 _[You're part of our family now. And I promise I'm not going to fail you like our families did.]_

She fists his shirt in her hands and stares up at him, eyes set and determined. "I'll be someone you— both of you— can trust. For forever"

And she knows Travis understands without having to say it outright. He smiles brightly, warmly, sincerely, and a little inkling of that happiness seeps into her as she smiles back.

* * *

 _I'll be your friend._

 _For forever._

 ** _Author notes:_**

 ** _Writing is hard. Life is hard. But sleep. Sleep is easy and a wonderful blessing to this dreary period in my life. I'm reminded of my shortcomings whenever I open my Google doc. It just makes me want to keep it all in my head and keep fantasizing rather than making it a reality. I know you shouldn't compare yourself to other writers, but it's hard not too. Maybe Tumblr's negativity is getting to me. Tumblr does have a way of dragging everyone down into a spiral of negativity. Good thing I got myself into a new anime called Haikyuu and Oikawa Tooru is the light of my life. (Also the Johzenji's Volleyclub Club. What a fun bunch.)_**

 ** _I relate with Oikawa so much. Just replace volleyball with writing and that's basically me._**


	13. Annabeth - Faith

**Annabeth — Faith**

Annabeth (7) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

It's incredible what comes out of eavesdropping, intentional or not.

And even though she'll never do it if she has a choice, Annabeth has to admit that it probably saved her relationship with one, snappy, little brother.

* * *

The first time is an accident even though they might say otherwise. She was only playing Hide-and-Seek with the Dionysus twins. And the point of Hide-and-Seek if you're a hider is to _hide_ and be _unseen._

She wasn't trying to spy on them or listen in to what they were saying or anything like that. She didn't even hear them bound up their creaky porch that apparently gone magically silent. If she had, she would have definitely gotten up from that loose floorboard in the middle of their cabin and said something. But she didn't hear and by the time she processed she wasn't alone, they just started talking.

"So what do you think now?"

"I still think there's a catch. Nothing in life is free."

Someone is pacing a bit away, the boards whining.

"Come on, Connor. It's been almost a month. If there's a catch, then shouldn't they tell us by now?"

"The more you trust someone, the easier it is to make them do stuff for you."

"I think you're being too paranoid."

A bed creaks. Someone yawns.

"Someone has to be."

And the board she's hiding under creaks, dust falling down. To her horror, she could feel a tickle in her nose.

 _Oh no._

She clenches her nose with both hands.

 _Oh no._

Her eyes burn with tears.

 _Oh no._

It's coming. She can't stop it.

And she sneezes, loud and unrestrained, as the board is rip off a millisecond later.

For that second, she could just see Connor's face. Eyes narrowed, brows bunched, a cold calculating countenance opposite to Tra — then another face, the same face pops up beside Connor's but that face is relaxed, easy going, even sporting a teasing grin.

Travis nudges Connor with his elbow and she thought he mouths something to his brother, but she didn't catch it in time. Travis turns back to her and snickers. "I thought you hate spiders, Anniebeth. Isn't there a lot of spiders there?"

Annabeth scrambles to her feet, watching Connor laid the board back down where it was and him rising with a scowl on his face. She could see his mouth opening, could literally hear his accusations, and she beat him to it before anything came out.

"It's Annabeth. I wasn't spying. I was playing hide and seek with Castor and —"

Travis yawns and walks away to fall flat onto their shared bed. "Yeah, we believe you. Don't be so scared."

"Is that what your gut is telling you?" Connor says, still glaring at her. Travis hums and Connor's shoulders relaxed but his eyes still follow her with distrust, caution, trepidation. Seriously, they have one little fight and he's acting like they're long-lived enemies.

"I wasn't scared," Annabeth argues.

"Yeah, you were," Travis says, getting up and grinning at her with crossed legs.

"I wasn't." And because she's nosy, she asks, "What were you talking about?"

"It's none of your—"

Travis claps his hands, drawing both of their attention. For a moment, his face darts around in panic but it settles on her shoulders and his eyes glint with malice, a little tick Annabeth knows as his 'I'm lying to mess with you.'

"There's a spider on your shoulder."

She knows he's lying but she still falls for it, yelping and slapping her shoulders, as Travis runs past her, towing his reluctant brother along by the hand.

Before they even left the cabin, she hears Travis sighs, "If you want friends, you need to be nicer."

And it was like Annabeth could hear the scowl in Connor's voice. "And you trust too easily. It's gonna get us killed one day."

She would have frown in thought as she processed what was said if she didn't hear Connor, Travis, doesn't matter who, say very loudly, very joyfully, "Castor, Pollux! Hi. Annabeth is in our cabin. We have a secret board on the floor too in case she's there."

And Annabeth scrambles for a new hiding spot, cursing beneath her breath as she dives for a bed.

Damn them. Damn them. Damn them.

* * *

The second time was also an accident.

It was the middle of the night in her cabin. She woke up because she heard a sound, like hooves scraping dirt, claws on wood, heavy feet on gravel, and those fears from all those months ago comes back. _It's the monsters. They're back. They're here. Where's her hammer? Did she leave it? Forget it somewhere? Where's—_

Then she finds the dagger Luke gave her tuck in her drawer and she slips off her bed, padding swiftly, lightly to the door. She stops to peek outside the window first but nothing moved. All is quiet. Camp is supposed to be safe. No monsters can cross the barrier. But nothing is certain and she'll be a fool to think that.

She opens her door and listens. Nothing. Then she peeks her head out and looks. Nothing. Was it really her imagination? She closes the door and trudges her way back to bed, places the dagger on the nightstand, and throws the cover over her head.

And as she was on the brink of sleep, she heard it again.

Okay, that's it. She's done sleeping by herself alone in her cabin. Time for a sleepover at Hermes.

She slid off her bed and gathers her blankets and pillow. Then after making sure the coast is clear, she made a beeline for the familiar cabin.

Her foot was almost on the porch when she heard it once more. This time though, it sounds a lot clearer and Annabeth can recognize it for what it was. Sniffling. Hard sniffling. Is someone crying?

It's coming from behind the cabin. Annabeth lowers her bedding to rest on the porch's stairs and walks towards the sound, a hand on the wall to guide her and slippers silent on the dirt.

The closer she got, the more certain she is that it's crying. Should she get Luke? It could be Chris. She heard about his sister Mary and their strained relationship. Luke would know what to do. But before she could turn around, a hushed voice rings out in the dark.

"Connor, it's okay. It was just a dream."

Travis? Connor? Annabeth walks closer.

"It was just a dream. I'm right here."

That's definitely his voice.

"I'll never leave you."

What happened?

"Don't be scared."

And Annabeth accidentally kicks a rock, the pebble deafening loud as it lands.

The response is instantaneous. She could hear Travis yelps, a body hitting a wall, and a crackle of electricity, before Connor's in front of her with a taser in his hand. She looks at it for a long second, distinctly remembering Chiron confiscating that taser.

 _He stole it back_.

"Oh." Annabeth looks back up to see Connor scowling and rubbing an arm over his face. "It's just you."

She blinks, staring at the tear tracks and red-rimmed eyes. "What's wrong?"

Connor turns around and marches to the back. She follows after him, but just as she turns the corner, the window clicks shut. And she's by herself in the cold, wondering if this is actually a dream. She walks back to the porch and opens the door, glancing pass Luke and Chris and two more demigods to the bed the brothers share. The mound-shaped shadow is unmoving, covers up to their chins and backs to her.

Annabeth takes her usual bed in the cabin whenever she slept over and slinks into dreamland.

The morning after felt like any other and Annabeth could almost believe it was all just a weird dream if she didn't find shoe prints on the wall leading up to the back window.

* * *

The third time was on purpose.

Sometimes the brothers sneak out of their cabin at 1 in the morning.

She knows this because she woke up once from a nightmare (Thalia— cyclops— cave— tree— no— _no, Thalia. No, don't— )_ and saw them leaving through the window and headed towards the forest.

She would have followed that first time, but it was late at night, everything feels so surreal and she fell back asleep. When she woke up, she completely forgotten about it.

Well, she's not falling asleep this time.

That day, she waited by the window after curfew. When she saw cabin 11's window rattles, she narrows her eyes. They slink from the window to the ground, eyes looking both ways as they wiggle the window close and run away. Annabeth slips on her boots and follows after them.

Even though they have a headstart and even though it's a new moon and even though Annabeth can't even see where she's stepping and has step on six branches that cracked very, very loudly, she was still able to keep up with the brothers and remain unnoticed.

Probably because of how loud they are.

"I hate the forest. I hate the forest. I hate the forest. I want to go back to the city."

"You just hate it because of all the mosquitos."

"Yeah, because they all bite me. Why don't they bite you?"

"It just means your blood is delicious. It's a compliment!"

They stop at Zeus's fist, leaning on the boulder's foundation. Annabeth ducks behind a rock a few feet away.

"I am going to drown the cabin in pesticide."

"I think you're overreacting."

"I'm not. I'm being serious. I'm gonna take the car and go to the city for pesticide."

"Just ask Chiron to do something."

"I don't like Chiron."

Annabeth bristles at those words. _Don't like Chiron? How? Why?_ She curls her hands along the rock. She hears shoes scrap against rock and a quick peep over the top of the boulder shows the brothers climbing Zeus's fist. She watches Connor stiffens and snaps his head to where she hid. She hoped she duck fast enough.

She didn't hear him call her out. Maybe she did.

When they clear the top, Annabeth left her hiding spot and walks over to the base of Zeus's Fist. She places her fingertips on the rock, wincing at the biting cold. But her face hardens with determination and she scales the rocks, going slowly and ensuring each grip before progressing. She is careful to be silent. Not that it did much for her. When she nears the top and peeks with her head barely above the top, she finds herself staring eye to eye with Trav — no, wait, Connor. An angry Connor.

"Hey," she greets with her best nonchalant tone.

Connor scowls. "Why are you following us?"

Travis offers a hand and Annabeth accepts it, pulling herself to the summit with the help. Once she's sure-footed and stable, she crosses her arms and raises her chin. "Why are you sneaking around? We have a curfew, you know."

Connor opens his mouth, but Travis swings his arm over his brother and shakes him lightly. "Connor," Travis says with a cautionary tone.

Connor rolls his eyes. "We want to look at the stars. We never saw stars in the city."

Annabeth looks over their shoulder to see blankets laid out and bags of chips spread all over. "You guys seem to do this a lot."

"And you seem to stalk us a—" Travis elbows him in the arm. Connor gives his brother a dirty look and, without a word, turns around to head for the blankets.

Travis offers an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. He's really nice when you get to know him."

Annabeth follows Travis to the other end of the top, blinking in surprise when a fleece blanket is thrown over her shoulders.

Travis smiles at her. "I'll share with Connor. You take this one."

"Thanks, Travis."

The gratitude is short lived though as Travis sits down beside Connor and unnecessarily takes up more room than needed. The only spot left is by Connor's other side and when she sits down, she didn't miss the way Connor scoots an inch away.

Whatever. She came here to look at the sky and she did, in complete and utter silence that is definitely not uncomfortable in any way. It only lasted a minute before Travis coughs. "So, Annabeth, how much do you know about constellations?"

She lights up. She knows _a lot_ about constellations! The library in her cabin has dozens of books about stars and she rattles off everything she learned from those books: pointing out the Big Dipper, Orion, Orion's belt, the histories behind each constellation, where her zodiac sign is, where their zodiac sign is.

She didn't even notice Travis falling asleep nor did she notice Connor staring at her with his knees drawn close his body and chin tucked in his arms. She thinks she would have gone on and on if Connor hadn't interrupted her.

"You're boring."

She stops and looks over, finally seeing Travis slump over asleep on Connor's shoulder. Connor scrapes the rock with his shoes, not looking at her. But the way his shoulders are tense and the way he positions his arms, she wonders…

"Do you have your taser on you?" Connor stiffens. Bingo. "Can I see it?" she asks.

Connor narrows his eyes and Annabeth is quick to say, "I won't use it on you guys. I just want to see it."

Connor still isn't budging. Okay, well. She holds up a pinkie. "I pinkie promise you on my mother's name."

The wind picks up as if her mother is there with them and acknowledging her promise. Connor still doesn't seem convinced, but he unhooks his arms and reveals the taser. He locks his pinkie with hers and shakes it once.

"You lie to me and I'll plant more tarantulas in your bed," he warns.

Annabeth crinkles her nose. Noted.

She accepts the taser and turns it over in her hands. It's heavier than she expected. And it's more polished than one you can buy from a store. She turns it over some more, squinting when she sees a name scribbled in Sharpie.

L.A. Police Force Officer Shirren.

Connor starts bouncing his heel and Annabeth hands the taser back to him.

"Do they work against monsters?" she asks innocently.

"No, not really."

"Then why do you have it?"

"Just in case."

She didn't push the issue. Instead she stretches and leans back on the rock. "All I had was a hammer."

Connor didn't say anything back to her and Annabeth went back to staring at the sky. She went over all the constellations she knew: Cassiopeia, Hercules, Orion, Cygnus, Gemini, Aquarius, Leo, the Big Dipper, and more. Over and over and over. It got boring quick. She wonders when they're going back.

She rolls to her side but almost jolts in surprise to see Connor staring at her with Travis still asleep. They stare at each other for a few seconds, like a contest to see who caves first.

She did by looking back to the sky and asking, "What made you cry the other night?"

Connor's voice is guarded. "Nothing. Mind your own business"

"Nothing gets better if you don't try to change."

Connor draws his knees closer to himself. "Things change without me doing anything. It'll fix itself like it always does."

"It won't get better," Annabeth says. _Home didn't get better. The problems didn't get better. Everything just got worse._ "If you don't try to do something, it'll just get worse. Trust me. I've been where you—"

Connor scoffs. "How long did you live on the streets?"

"A couple months before Luke."

And Connor picks up a pebble and hurls it out to darkness. His voice is bitter, angry and when Annabeth glance over, his eyes shine with resentment. "Then you know. Anything can be a monster, so you can't trust anybody _._ Even normal people or people like me and you. Believing in anybody is stupid. It gets you killed. Travis would have been eaten by a cyclops that first night we were out, killed by that serial killer the second night, and pecked to death by that stupid bird the third if I wasn't with him. You can't tell me to believe in someone when it'll just end up stabbing us in the back."

"But," and she angles her face to the side so she could better see Connor, "Travis can feel lies, right? He would have felt something by now if we're all lying."

"There's ways to get around it," he says, wincing a second later as Annabeth's eyes widen.

"How?" she asks, cogs turning. _Does it work by feeling for body changes? Or mental discrepancies? Or is it something Travis needs to activate?_

As expected, Connor didn't elaborate further and Annabeth went on, tucking that little tidbit in the back of her mind. She'll figure it out later. She'll have lots of time later to figure it out.

"Well, you can trust me. I won't do anything to hurt you guys. "

"Sure. I'll believe you." Connor rolls his eyes and his voice says he's being sarcastic. But underneath she could hear a little bit of uncertainty, a little bit ambivalence and she guesses that's the best she could hope for.

And because she's tired and sleepy and cold, she asks, "When are we going back?"

"Go back by yourself," Connor grumbles and Annabeth blows a raspberry at him. She stands up and wraps the blanket tighter around her. But before she could even take a step, Connor reaches up and snags the drooping corners of the blanket.

He doesn't look at her, but at his shoes. "You said you'll be Travis' friend."

"I said I'll be both of your friends."

"For forever, right? Even if I make you super, duper mad?"

So he was listening. "Forever means forever."

Connor thought about it, staring at the star-twinkling night. Then he looks up at her and smiled with his crooked grin. "Your scream was super funny when you saw that tarantula. I wished I recorded it."

Annabeth's jaws clench and she tosses the blanket aside, cracking her knuckles. "I'm going to destroy you, Connor. You shouldn't have reminded me."

But Connor only laughs and shakes Travis' shoulders shallowly. "See? You're already breaking your promise. You suck."

Travis raises his head, blinking blearily around him and stifling a yawn. "Wha? What promise? Connor?"

Annabeth takes several steps back to the edge with a teasing grin that's born partly out of exhaustion and of pride. "I'm not breaking my promise to you. I'm just gonna tell Chiron that you two been sneaking out at night. He's gonna punish you. Not me." Then she turns around and scales down the boulder.

"Hey, that's still your fault! You're still breaking your promise. Hey, Anniebeth! Travis, get up. We're stopping Anniebeth before she rat us out."

"It's Annabeth. _Anna-_ beth," she yells before devoting all her concentration to moving faster.

She plops on the ground with a small oof, smiling triumphantly when she sees they just start climbing down. "Hah! I'm on the ground. Good luck catching up to me," she shouts, no intention of ratting them out.

And Connor, thank gods, seem to understand this because he turns his head to blow a raspberry. But then his eyes lock above her head and he pales.

And before she could turn around to see what he's staring at, she hears the rustle of feathers and it's like a dart to the board when she recalls.

Camp has harpies.

Camp has harpies. They work as the night patrol. And she heard so, so, so many stories about their extremely good ears and even better eyes and even more better snitching.

When Annabeth turns around — inching her head up, up, and up — annoyed, brown eyes stare back. _Oh cru—_

"Annabeth." Chiron's face is stern. "Travis. Connor. Would you three mind telling me why you're breaking curfew?"

 ** _Author's Notes: Yeah, I'm just gonna get this out of my Google Doc so I don't have to be haunted by my_ ****_suckiness_** ** _, I mean, writer's block anymore._**


	14. Annabeth - Dog Person

**Annabeth — Dog Person**

Annabeth (13) - Travis (13) - Connor (12)

January

post the lightning thief

—

Annabeth promised Cerberus she'd come and visit.

And she will.

She won't break her promise.

She'll _never_ break her promises.

(not when she came back to camp when things are going bad at home _again_ and she's reminded again of Luke's promise to her, ' _I'll be your new family and I promise I won't fail you the way our families did'_ , a promise he clearly broke.)

Coming back to Camp Half Blood for a little break from her family reminded her of that promise she made in the Underworld.

But the thing is, when she made the decision to go visit, she didn't think she would have two pesky brothers on her back, asking questions about why she's trying to sneak out, about why she's trying to hijack the car, about why she's trying to call the Gray Sisters' Taxi Services.

They're so nosy and impossible and such little dicks,

" _We'll tell Chiron, Anniebeth."_

" _Tell us where you are going."_

" _Why are you trying to leave when you just got back?"_

" _Do we bother you that much? Oh gods, we do don't we?"_

" _Awesome! We still got it."_

That she ended up bringing them along.

Which is a good thing, she guesses.

Because she was about to get into the Underworld the way she did before with Percy, but they — Annabeth remembering their father's epithet _psychopompos_ , shepherd of souls — they know another entry. One that is a lot closer.

So she follows them out of camp undetected. (When she asked how, they refuse to tell her, winking and saying in unison, _it's a secret_.)

She follows them to the main road where they hitchhike to Manhattan. (Never mind the fact they were picked up by a cyclops and were nearly back to a den of hungry one-eyed monsters.)

And she follows them to the bowels of New York City.

It is obvious they are at home here. They blend and merge into the crowd, so fluidly, so unnoticeable, she lost sight of them. They had to go back for her and Travis had to keep a hand on her wrist as she's pulled along.

Pulled straight to a dumpster.

She wrinkles her nose.

"Are you sure this is it?"

Travis nods. "We hid here once and saw the door to the Underworld."

Connor smiles cheekily at her. "Why? Is Anniebeth scared of getting a wee bit smelly—"

"There's a cockroach by your feet," Annabeth says, ignoring Connor's screeching, Travis' laughing, and walks up to the dumpster. She lifts the lid and pulls back in disgust.

It smells.

Like a dumpster should.

Travis and Connor jump in without hesitation, but Annabeth lingers by the entry, staring at the red stain on the bottom and at the black grim coating the walls and at the single, black trash bag in the corner. There's nothing here that indicates a passage to the underworld.

If it were anyone else, Annabeth would have doubts. But after 5 long (very, very long) years of living with them, of being pranked by them, of being bothered and annoyed and teased in every way Mankind knows how, she can tell they're not messing with her.

She almost wishes they are.

With a sigh, Annabeth pinches her nose with a hand and jumps in after them, choking as the lid close and the damp, moldy smell grows stronger and unbearable.

"So what do we do now?"

Connor crouches down and touches the dirtied bottom with his hand. Annabeth would have retch in disgust if the pattern glowing brighter every second didn't halt whatever her stomach is going to push up. She stares as the outline of a door appears on the floor, traced by a neon blue and she watches as it loses its 2nd-dimensional shape. The door seems to rise off the ground, rising and rising until it's an inch above the grim-coated floor. Near the edge of the door, a line glows the same blue and caves in, forming a car handle.

Travis grips the handle and heaves up, the door opening wide to Hell's fiery sky and ghastly screams drifting up from the entry.

"That… that is really…"

Connor grabs her wrist and tugs harshly. He looks strained. "Come on, hurry. Before anyone notices."

They descend into hell with Travis dropping the door behind them.

She falls only for a few seconds before landing firmly on solid ground, noticing she's right across from the River Styx. She could see Charon on the other side, a hand on his cheek and appearingly bored out of his mind.

An entrance where the dead don't have to pay the fare. That could spell trouble.

"Travis? Travis?! Holy shit. Annabeth, do you have any ambrosia?"

Annabeth spins around and her heart freezes for a moment when she sees Travis on his knee with Connor half standing, half kneeling over him and a hand underneath his shoulder.

"I'm fine," Travis says. He doesn't sound fine. "Don't cuss. Swear jar."

Travis tries to stand and crumbles down to his knees. He glances at her, probably sees the look on her face, and instantly his grimace is replaced with a smile.

"Don't worry. It just takes a lot of power to open a gate to hell. I don't think visiting Cerberus can be a daily thing."

She bites her lip, moving to Travis's side and helping him stand. "I'm sorry for dragging you along."

The smile and dismissive wave of a hand didn't really mean much when Travis's knees buckled after one step. Connor moves to Travis's other side and hook the arm over his shoulder and together, they move forward.

"Hrnnnghhhhhh, Travis, why are you so heavy?"

"Shut up, Connor. I'm not heavy. You just don't have any muscles."

"Stop bickering," Annabeth snaps. "Cerberus should be around here and being aggressive will make him aggressive."

It shuts them up for a good five seconds before Connor leans his head past Travis to fixate his eyes on her. An eyebrow is raised and his mouth is drawn tight. "Hey, Annabeth. Are you _positive_ Cerberus is a good monster?"

Annabeth understands his concern. There's no such thing as a friendly monster in their books, especially demigod eating ones. But Cerberus was willing to listen to her commands last time. She's sure he'll listen to them again. So she nods her head and answers with the confidence she can, "Positive."

Right after she said that Cerberus pounces on them.

A paw knocks them down and pins their lower bodies to the ground. Annabeth hears a low growl, hot breath gushing into her face. A wet snout presses near her face, sniffling. And just as quick as Cerberus attacked, he got off, sitting on his hind legs and shaking positively in joy _._

Faintly, she's aware of Connor's yelping ( _Th-that's Cerberus? You didn't tell me it'll be this big. It's-it's-it's the size of our cabin. Oh my gods. Ohhhh my gods)_ and Annabeth frowns. Whoops.

She stands and Cerberus plops onto his stomach that shakes the ground and nearly causes her to fall back down. Even down on all four, the dog almost towers over her. Tentatively she raises a hand, six pairs of eyes following it, and scratches the leftmost dog's head, chuckling at the little yips. She smiles. "Hey, I came back."

The middle sniffs her pockets and whines. They paw the ground, looking at her with begging eyes. Annabeth shakes her head sadly. "Sorry, I didn't bring any toys with me."

"I did." Travis presents a red rubber ball. A normal size rubber ball. For normal size dogs. She really should have told them how big Cerberus was.

"I stole, I mean, brought it before we came here plus some other dog toys. But I think you're a little too big for — ah!"

Cerberus races to Travis and nearly stomps him into the ground in their eagerness. Connor pulls him back by the scruff of his shirt in time before Travis becomes a pancake.

Connor's tensed, pale, trembling, a hand shoved in his pocket where he has his celestial Swiss Army Knife, a gift from their father supposedly. The idea of a small knife facing against a giant beast like Cerberus is laughable and Annabeth would have laughed if she wasn't terrified of how Cerberus will respond. The right head is already baring their teeth. The middle head is cocked to the side and soon the left will notice something is wrong. They're going to die if she doesn't do something.

"Connor, wait— don't! — you'll make them—"

"Sit, Cerberus," Travis commands with a strictness she didn't think he had in him, voice rising when Cerberus remains standing. "Sit down _now_."

It plops down, whimpering. The right head bares its teeth once more and growls lowly. Travis snaps at it to stop and surprisingly, it did. The middle barks, almost scoldingly, at the right head who flattens their ears and looks down.

Travis turns to his brother, eyes twinkling. "Dude, Connor, he's massive. I never saw a dog this big before," Travis says in awe, all sternness gone from his voice, "Hey, Cerberus, see the ball? Can you catch? Catch!" He throws the ball in an upward arc, far and long. Cerberus got up quickly, feet stumbling a little over each other as it does a 180. The tail would have sent them flying if they didn't duck

Annabeth worries for a moment the toy will become a choking hazard, but it seems even they know it's too small. With dexterity and speed that's admirable for its size, Cerberus runs after the ball. Rather than bite, it jumps and smacks the ball down with its oversized paws, pinning it safely to the ground before rolling it back to them.

It sits on its rear, looking expectedly down at them.

Travis is the one who reacts first, pulling himself to his feet with Connor's help. "Holy macaro — that's so cool! You're such a good boy, Cerberus!"

The tail wags.

"Here, you ready for it again? Go get it!"

Connor drops his hand on Travis' shoulder, grimacing and jabbing a thumb behind him. "Imma go. Be careful. Call me if you need me. Bye."

And just like that Connor is turning around and walking away. Giving a look to Travis who seems to have a handle on the situation, Annabeth follows Connor. They didn't go far, just a couple meters away.

Connor sits on the ground with a sigh and closes his eyes. "Please, please, _please_ , Anniebeth, give me a size warning next time. I nearly peed my pants when I saw it. Gods, I hate dogs."

Annabeth sits down carefully next to him. "Why? They're adorable."

"Not when they're trying to chew your face off. A rabid dog attacked us once in Wisconsin. Ever since then, I don't want anything to do with animals."

Oh.

She watches Travis laughs and rubs Cerberus on the tummy, unflinching when one of the heads nuzzles him on the cheek. "Does Travis not care or doesn't remember?"

"He remembers. He's just a weirdo whose danger sensor needs a fixing with Beckendorf."

Travis must have heard them because he rubs Cerberus with more fervor and coos in a ridiculous puppy voice, "You're such a sweetheart, aren't you? You won't hurt me. Ignore your mean uncle. I love you so—ack! Too much licking! No more licking! Oh my gods, your breath stinks. Who washes your teeth?"

Connor rolls his eyes, but there's endearment in his action. She can see that ( _but she can't say the same for her—_ ). Connor's head lolls back and he asks with sympathy, "So trouble at home again, huh? Are you done for the year or are you going back?"

She crinkles her nose. "We only had a little… spat. It's not too big. I'm going back next week." Just thinking about her family, when this is supposed to be break time from them has her blood boiling a little bit. _It was just a little, itty-bitty monster and she took care of it before it ever got close to them. Why do they get so mad at her? It's not her fault. The monsters just come. It's not like she can turn off the demigod part of her._

Connor bumps her shoulder with his. He's grinning at her and the smile is just a level short of malicious. "Do you want me and Travis to come over? I'm sure we can make you seem like an angel."

Annabeth bites her cheeks and tries hard to keep her face straight. "What's the price?"

"5 drachmas for each day we're there. Transportation must be included."

"And?" she says, "What is the plan?"

The smile grows more crooked. "You know, the usual. Prank a little. Yell a bit. Throw a couple punches at each other. For 5 more drachmas, we can get law enforcement involved too."

"And what about the monsters that will definitely come with three of us there?"

"You'll kick their asses and make your brothers adore you. Everybody loves badass sisters. It's an extra 10 drachmas for each monster that appears though. Safety fee, you know."

"I want the friend discount."

"No discounts."

"Then I'm not interested," Annabeth says with a turn of her head to the side, trying and failing, to keep her laugh in.

Connor shrugs. "Hm. Okay. Whatever you say. We'll see in a month or two. You'll definitely give in by then and I'll have the last—"

They both heard it at the same time.

Charon's creaky boat drifting through the River Styx and coming their way.

Connor stands first and pulls Travis' arm over his shoulder. "Sorry. Timetogo. ByeDoggieDog." And he starts dragging Travis away. Annabeth pets Cerberus' snout and pushes slightly when they stand to follow Travis.

"No, Cerberus, stay," Travis yells over his shoulder.

Cerberus listens, but cries and whines, almost howling.

 _Are you coming back?_ They seem to ask.

Travis promises soon. Connor groans and yells for her to hurry up. Annabeth smiles and gives one last head scratch before running after the brothers.

They're waiting for her when she arrives. Travis has his hands on a rock, eyes closed in concentration. The outline of a door glows and Connor hurries to pull it open. Annabeth pulls Travis with her as she crosses and Connor, following suit, closes the gate.

The first thing she notices is that they're not in a dumpster. The air she so heavenly breathes in is too fresh, too clean.

No, that dumpster would be a thousand better than where they are.

Because right in front of them, out of all the places they could end up, it had to be in a horse stall, right when the horse is defecating.

And right when there is a girl there grooming the coat.

They stare at each other. Annabeth's gray eyes and the girl's bright green ones.

Nobody said anything for a moment.

Then Travis sneezes and the horse rears. The girl snaps her eyes away, pulling on the reins to lead the horse out. Dimly, Annabeth is aware of the walls, of the ground, rumbling and shaking and grumbling.

"Da-Dad! Daaaaaaaad!"

"Katie? Katie, what is it?!"

 _Ohh crap._

Annabeth scrambles for her drachma, finally noticing the slumped over Connor on her back. He would have faceplants into the pile of feces if Travis hadn't caught him.

"Is he okay?!"

Travis nods quickly, gesturing for her to get a move on and eyeing the rumbling walls beside them. They're moving. Something is crawling along the ways but Travis shakes her shoulder hard before she could looker closer. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's fine. Now let's hurry and get out of here!"

Somehow they manage to make it back to camp. Manage to sneak back in undetected. Manage to avoid any questions why the brothers slept all day. And, according to the letters Connor mailed her once she went back home, for the next month managed to keep it all a secret until that girl they met in the stall came to camp and ratted them out.

It was fate, Annabeth thinks, that the girl— Katie Gardner— took the title of being the Stoll's favorite victim from her for the next three years.

 _ **Author's notes:**_

 _ **(I know it's unlikely Annabeth ever went back to play with Cerberus again like she promised but just let me live in the fantasy that all doggies end up happy and that no pet ever suffer.)**_

 _ **Thank you for all your encouraging reviews! With the recent follows, I just want to say that I am a very sporadic updater. Sometimes I go a month without updating. Sometimes 3 months. Sometimes 6. But I promise I'll do my best to update the 15th and 30/31th of each month!**_

 _ **Next chapter is Katie's and I want to say that this fic will remain ship free even though I am a huge multishipper. I ship Travis and Connor with basically everyone. Katie, Miranda, Will, Nico, Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Gwen. You name a character and I may 70% of the time ship it (canon be damned.) But I'm going to keep the brothers in platonic relationships only in this fic because 1. I love platonic relationships and 2. I suck at writing romantic relationships. And I found this out when trying to write a Mikayuu Christmas gift fic. My person wanted a fluffy, sweet Christmas scene and I. Totally. Did not. Deliver.**_


	15. Katie - Bugs

**Katie — Bugs**

February

Katie (13) - Travis (13) - Connor (12)

post the lightning thief

* * *

With great power comes great responsibilities…

Great powers such as being a walking, breathing, free-producing fertilizer and great responsibilities such as not scaring her classmates with said powers or disrupting class with said powers or trashing her school with said power.

Katie fails all three in one day. Altogether. In one spectacular kabam.

She always thought she had great control over her powers. Sure, she can't really stop her vegetable garden from growing a new batch a day after she picked them clean and sure she can't really stop the little pine saplings that grew at her feet when she's just a tad upset. And _sure_ , when she wakes up in the morning, her room is covered lightly ceiling to ground with ivy.

But it never went any further than that and it never bothered anyone. Their neighbors love them for all the free produce and Miranda is grateful for the pine trees.

And dad never had the 'talk' with her like Miranda's mom does.

Things were alright the way they were.

Then she had to go and uproot her entire middle school by its foundation.

That warrant an action and that action comes in the form of multicolor pamphlets of smiley kids in bright orange shirts. They're posing underneath a wooden sign that said, "Camp Half Blood."

And sometimes when Dad thinks she's asleep in her room and not listening in on his phone conversations, she can hear him speaking with a "Mr. Chiron" ' about safety and fees and commodities.

When she shows it to Miranda, her long-time, equally as strange, equally as superpowered friend, she oohed and ahhed. And even though Miranda struggled to read the print, there's a twinkle in her eyes.

"They have a climbing wall that sprouts lava! Lava, Kate! That's so cool. And there's horse stables! Horses! And oh! Thes also a crafting building. You love weaving, don't you?"

She plucks the pamphlet from Miranda's hands, reviewing the faux-cheerfulness again with a frown. "I guess. But I don't want to go. I don't want to miss school."

"But." And Miranda takes the pamphlet back. "You're smart. You'll survive a week without classes."

"Come with me, Randi. I don't want to be alone."

Miranda smirks, sides curving in a teasing hint. "And watch you whine about everything just like you did at Science Camp? Sure, why not? But you know Mom won't let me. She rather I just do normal people thing."

Katie pouts, biting her cheeks as Miranda stands and stretches, joints popping. She picks up the wooden sword from the ground and twirls it in her hands.

"I'll try to talk with her. Meanwhile, you just hang on. If anyone bully you, call me and I'll beat them up. Okay?" Miranda smiles cheekily, confidently. She points a thumb behind her. "There's two shadow wolves by Mr. Thompsberry's house. Do you want to come with me? You can even use your powers to surprise them."

"You know I can't control my powers very well," Katie grumbles, but she follows Miranda anyway.

Sooner than she expected, she's packing a suitcase and getting into the car. She calls Miranda and say goodbye, then heads into the stables to say goodbye to her horse too.

Dad talks animatedly about the camp, about how she was going to love it there and about the activities she can do and the people she'll meet and how if she loves it enough, she can go back for the summer.

She tries to appear enthusiastic, nodding along and commenting every once and awhile but the truth is she doesn't care.

She just wants to get her powers under control so she can go back to living like a normal teenager.

It's only until they drove onto the ramp leading to the airport that Katie picks up her head and asks her first question. "Where is the camp?"

Dad chuckles, a hand going to scratch the back of his neck. "You know, it's ah, in the states. In America. Somewhere on the east coast. New York to be exact."

"New York?!" Katie yells, jumping in her seat. "Why is it in New York?!"

The car swerves sharply to the left, throwing her to the right. Behind them, horns blare and tires shriek.

From the window, she could see a palm tree, still growing, breaking through asphalt. Cars behind them screech to a halt in the face of her impromptu creation.

A heavy silence falls on the car as she sinks into her seat.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Katie." But she couldn't miss the tremble in Dad's hands and the silent exhale. She bites her cheeks and lowers her head.

With forced pep in his voice, Dad says, "Hey, chin up. This is why you're going to the camp, yeah? There'll be someone waiting for us at the airport. They'll take us the rest of the way. And while I'm talking Chiron, you can make friends with the kid Chiron will bring along!"

Katie nods dejectedly.

There _was_ someone waiting for them when they got off the airport. A man in a wheelchair and two boys, on the ground playing with a deck of cards.

They're familiar. Very, _very_ familiar. And when their heads rise and their eyes meet hers, it clicks for them too. Before she can even process why they're placing a finger on their lip or slashing their throats with a thumb or even mouthing 'no, no, no, no, **_no_ **,' she says, pointing at them, "You guys were in Sierra's stall last month."

And the wheelchaired man's smiles tighten in strain. An eyebrow rise and the wheels creak as the man rolls back a bit to look over his shoulder.

 _"Oh?"_

* * *

Which, she guesses, all lead them to now.

To this situation. To this dilemma.

See, the two boys, Travis and Connor, are sons of Hermes.

Sons of a trickster.

And Katie has a very weak heart with a weaker sense of humor that borders on nagging mother according to Miranda. So it didn't really surprise her when she opened that door to Cabin 11 and something popped right by her ear that she responses by shrieking and hurling her suitcase in a wide swing.

A voice cries, "Connor, watch out!" and there's a loud thump.

The ground starts to rumble. The walls start to wobble. Everything is vibrating. And as she clings to the door frame, eyes shut tight, she could hear a horrible, horrible creaking.

The shaking eventually stops and when she opens her eyes, there stands a full grown redwood tree in the center of the cabin, piercing through wooden boards and metal beds alike.

By her feet lies the unsuspecting confetti popper with its green and red and yellow contents scatter all over the floor.

What a fantastic start to her first day.

* * *

Most days, Katie is by the strawberry fields with the satyrs. It's quiet. The satyrs leave her alone. And there's no pranks waiting to scare her soul out of her body. Which is very, very nice.

It allows her to concentrate in peace. And Katie needs all the peace she can get.

She takes a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders. She holds her hands out, palm out, and takes another breath. Slowly the strawberries stop growing, the stem stop spreading, the plant stops growing, stops moving, until it's completely still. She holds it there, concentrating and counting the seconds.

2\. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9—

An aphid crawls on top of the leaf and she could literally feel her control slipping through her fingertips. _Close my eyes. Take a breath. Try again. Try again. Try again._ And she does exactly that but they continue to grow. Slower though. Maybe if she focuses more then—

"Katie!"

It slips from her hands entirely.

The leaves grow and the stem wraps itself her ankle.

She clenches her fist and stands. 9 seconds. No matter what she does she can never make it to ten.

"Katie! I have this really cool trick to show you!" She hears footsteps running towards her. She didn't need to turn around to know it's one of them.

And she turns with her hands on her hips. "If it's another prank, Travis, I swear I'll—"

'Travis' rolls his eyes. "Connor. And no, Ms. No-Fun-Allowed. It's not a prank. It's a magic trick. Here. Pick a card. Any ca— Hey! Where are you going?"

She walks away mid-sentence, mindlessly flexing her hand and saying over her shoulder, "I have to talk to Chiron. Next time."

It's not getting better.

* * *

Sometimes she tries when it's night.

Maybe it'll be easier. Maybe it's just the sun making it difficult.

They're quiet as they should be, but when she draws near they wake up and the leaves angles to her. She sinks to her knees and holds out a hand. _Stop._ They slow, but didn't stop. _Stop._ they're not stopping. _Why won't they stop?_ Katie rubs a hand into her eyes. No, no, crying will just make it worse. She needs to keep it together.

She takes another deep breath and exhale. Then another deep breath, exhale, inhale, ex—

"S-S-See, Connor? There's a ghost over there. I _told_ you there's a ghost haunting the strawberry fields, but _nooo, '_ ghosts don't exist, ghosts are fairy tales.'"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah I see it! Stop shaking my shoulder! Uh, lets go get Lee. He'll probably know what to — wait… Katie? Isn't that Katie?"

And they yell her name, disrupting the silence and her focus. The strawberries grows and grows until they're red and ripe and probably delicious.

She grits her teeth and stands, twin footfalls coming to her.

* * *

"You can't just wander around by yourself at night, Katie! There's harpies to worry about. They'll give us a citation if we don't behave and we already got too many this month _because somebody has to keep breaking into Apollo's and Hephaestus' cabins!_ "

"Hey. Lee got it coming. He shouldn't have made fun of us. I needed tools and Beckendorf is and I quote 'staying in his lane this time,' and his tools aren't exactly free to the public"

"You gotta try harder to not get caught."

"Have you ever got past Beckendorf's alarms?"

She tunes them out easily enough. There's just something about them that's easy to ignore. Her head falls back onto the chair and she flexes her right hand. It's not getting better. Two weeks have passed and it's not getting better. Should it be taking this long? Is she doing something wrong? The wedding is in two months. If she doesn't get under control by then…

"Hey, Kitkat Katie."

"Don't call me that," she says without thought, lowering her head to stare at the brothers. They're looking at her weird, with their mouth set in a small frown and eyes narrow just a bit.

"Is something wrong?" one asks.

"Nothing's wrong." But everything is wrong. And right behind them, to her horror, the wilting flowers quiver and pull upright. Bright, healthy, indistinguishable from their wilted state a mere seconds ago.

* * *

And sometimes she gives up for a few hours and dig into her blankets on the top bunk bed in Cabin 11.

She's only a few feets from where she grew her first tree on camp. Looking down she could see the finished, polished flooring, a contrast to the antiquity of the rest of the cabin. It's hard to believe it was ever damaged.

The cabin was fixed in just three, incredible days. She didn't think it was possible but the man who fixed it only smiled and waved his hand flippantly. "Don't sweat it. It happens all the time with newcomers. This cabin is always getting renovated in weird places," he said, pointing at the ceiling and the old roof supporters but new shills, the old restroom tiles but new counters, the stained window drapes but new window panes.

It happens all the time.

Yet the only beds being occupied are hers and Travis's and Connor's.

Which means the others who were here before already left.

Which means the others who were uncontrollable like her had already left.

She pulls the covers over her head, fully intending on sleeping the afternoon away but then, like fate itself wanted her to suffer, the door flies open and two voices tumble into the cabin, awfully loud and awfully grating.

"I'm never playing kickball with Clarisse again. I think I bruised my ribs when I caught her ball."

"It's like a cannon. Why can't she take it easy on us? Hey, Katie! Are you here? We're playing volleyball soon and need another player."

She keeps quiet, listening to them tramp around the cabin. They come closer and closer, stopping at the ladder to her bunk. A second passes before, "We know you're up there."

She didn't say anything. Maybe they're lying. Maybe they're —

"The tulips are growing, so we know you're up there. Come on. Volleyball is waiting for us."

Reluctantly, Katie rises and peeks down. One of them is holding a pot and true to their words, the tulips are growing, shifting through the life cycle faster than it should be. Katie rolls back onto her bed.

"I don't want to."

"Come on _,_ Katie. We left you alone for three weeks now, but you have to participate in _some_ camp activities."

"You didn't leave me alone for —"

"Pranks don't count. They're not camp stuff."

"Everybody is waiting. Getting some exercise is good."

She draws her blankets under her chin and curls in. "No."

"Playing volleyball will help you stay alert! You need to be alert once you leave camp."

 _Once you leave camp_ … She curls in farther and shuts her eyes. "No."

"Don't be such a debbie-downer. And just come play. Just one game."

"I said _no!_ "

And she feels something surge through her whole body, a jolt of electricity. The ground rumbles, shakes and something is creaking. Something is tearing. Before she could even throw the covers off, she hears screaming.

She bolts straight up and scoots towards the ladder, peeking down from the side and paling at what she sees. Vines, with stems as wide as her wrists, are wrapped around the Travis' and Connor's ankles. And by the time she climb down the ladder, the tendrils are snaked around their hips and reaching higher still. She could see them tightening and tightening and tightening. If they reach the neck… then… they could… they could…

Katie swallows and walks up to them, but the vines move faster up and she backs away. Travis, Connor, she still can't tell them apart but one of them notices and tries to back away too, except his feet is planted and it did nothing but draws panic up in him and in her.

The other raises his head to her and waves. He waves like he's not minutes away from being strangled by a plant. "Katie. Hey, look, sorry for not taking no for an answer. My bad. Definitely won't happen again until I get some pruners on me. Can you call these off us?"

Call them off? _Call them off?_ _When she can't even control them in the first place? When her power never directly attacked people before? Call them off?_

She tries to say as much, but everything comes out jumbled and she only sees the vines that continue to climb and climb and climb.

"Katie," the one who tried to back away first said, a wavering smile on his face. "It's going to be alright. Calm down first. You panicking just makes it grow faster. Breathe, count to ten, breathe again then try."

He tries to hide it, tries to mask that growing hysteria in his voice and panic in his eyes, tries to remain calm for her sake, but it just made her panic all the more. She could see it. It's too tight. The tendrils are still snaking up, curling around thighs and waists and arms. If they get to the neck and squeeze there.

 _No, no, no, no no no nononononono_

"Katie, I don't want to put pressure on you, but me and Connor are gonna die if you don't call them off," the second chuckles, still trying and still failing to rip the vines off.

"I— I— I'm trying. It's not working. I'm sorry. I—"

"Don't cry. Oh gods, please don't cry. I got this." And Connor brandishes a pocket knife. She didn't even notice he was shifting around in his pocket in the midst of her panicking.

The pocket knife is small and when Connor somehow unhooked the blade, Katie could see its made of gold and is shining. But it's small and the vines are thicker than her wrists. What could it possibly—

Connor stabs it into Travis and Katie screams.

He pushes down and she turns away, bile rising at the thought of seeing blood and muscles and bone.

But Travis wasn't screaming in pain or anything and when Katie peeks behind her hands, Travis is actually snickering. _Snickering._ "Pffft, did you see that Connor?"

There's no blood like she expected. No muscles. No bone. Only a trail of cut vines.

"What— how— I—"

"Celestial bronze don't hurt mortals," Travis says, taking the knife from Connor's hand and cutting through his bindings, slicing through the vines like they're butter. In mere seconds, they were free. But new vines wrap themselves around their ankles. Travis stomps his feet, motioning with his head to her ladder. Connor seems to get what he's saying and he drags her by the arm to her bed, following up last after them.

The vines don't follow them up, but Katie watches them crawl through the rest of the floors, through the walls, to the ceiling, threading through boards and winding around nightstands.

Beside her, there's a cough.

She didn't dare look at them, couldn't even find the words to say. Sorry isn't enough. I don't have control isn't enough. I didn't mean to isn't enough. Her eyes burn and she shoves the heel of her hand against them. Crying now will make everything worse, but her eyes didn't seem to want to listen like her stupid powers and she could feel a tear snakes down her cheek.

Travis claps his hands. "Well, that was a wonderful bonding moment. How about we bond some more through volleyball?"

"Unless you have some personal grudge against volleyball," Connor adds, "Then we can play poker. "

There's a lump in her throat. Why do they sound so calm?

"Katie?"

There's no fear in their voice. They're not scared. Why? _Why_?

"Say something. Are you hurt?"

Her breath hitches and again, the walls start to rumble.

"Oh my shit, she's crying. Travis, what do we do?"

"I-I don't know! What do we do? Someone call Lee or Chiron! Wait, Connor, you have drachmas on you, right? Call Annabeth. Where is she staying again? New York? Connecticut? Europe? AHHHH, why didn't she tell us before she ditched us?"

She buries her head into her knees.

Why aren't you mad?

Why don't you hate me?

* * *

In the end, someone came to investigate the rumblings and found the cabin swathed from top to bottom in vines. Chiron told them it might take a while to get them free and to 'sit tight.' Outside, someone is wowing, saying they never saw a child of Demeter do something like this.

… whatever Demeter means.

The three of them sit in the middle of the bed, one has his leg dangling off the side and the other sits crossed legged while she has her legs drawn up to her chest. They're playing a card game. Egyptian something. They asked if she wanted to play but she shook her head.

She was never that great at card game anyway and once the game started, it looks like they're going way too fast for her to win anyway. She hugs her knees closer to her.

The third game in, they finally talk.

"So." A card is laid down. "Do you want to tell us what's been bothering you?"

Another card is flip, followed by another flip and another flip. Slap. "Unless you don't want to tell us. That's totally fine too."

Flip. Flip. Slap. "It's… my dad." Flip. "He's getting remarried." Flip. Flip. Flip. Slap. "The wedding is in two months."

The flipping stops as they share a look. A conversation passes between them that she didn't understand. "Do you not like who your dad is marrying or—"

"No, I like them. Him," she corrects herself, nearly forgetting the divorce from last year. Miranda would never let her live it down if she messes it up in front of her. Especially since she kinda marked the moment by growing a garden of roses when the Gardiner's visted them to tell them the news. The face on Mrs. Gardiner's face was great. "I can't attend unless I have my powers under control."

"Because you'll cry?" The one sitting crossed-legged hisses quietly, _Travis!_

But she nods miserably. "Because I'll cry." _And probably make the wedding into something from a horror movie._

Connor tilts his head to the side and edges closer to her. "Have you told Chiron?"

"Yeah, but every suggestion he gives doesn't work." _Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the problem._

Travis hums and taps his chin. "We know someone who sorta has the same power as you. She's not as dangerous because all she can make are these flimsy pieces of ivy, but hers is just as annoying as yours. Beckendorf always needed to come by and help snip them off. Maybe she can help. But, ah, she's attending school in Maine. I'm not sure if she's willing to come down here."

Connor yawns and falls onto his back. "I heard she hates her middle school. She'll probably say, say, say…"

Katie raises her head to look questionably at Connor, Travis doing the same. He's rigid, eyes squinting and nose wrinkling. "Hey, Katie," he starts slowly, quietly. "Those vines you grew, do they attract bugs?"

And she swallows hard as she reluctantly says, "They attract beetles, but as long as we get rid of the vines fast enough then—"

"Holy f—" "Swear Jar."

In a burst of speed that Katie didn't know humans were capable of, Connor launches himself to the wall, banging them like a demon. "HEY, WHO'S OUT THERE? LEE? CHIRON? BECKENDORF? PLEASE, CUT FASTER. CUT FASTER!"

Katie closes her eyes as Travis cackles, wishing more than ever that she had the power to retract too.

"AGH. IT'S EVERYWHERE. OH, GODS. ITS UNSALVAGEABLE. GIVE ME THE GASOLINE. I'M BURNING OUR CABIN DOWN."

"Connor, you're overreacting. Oh! Is that a bug I see on your arm?"

Connor's wails could rival a volcano eruption. Travis's laughs nearly challenging that. Outside, someone asks if they're alright.

"Just kidding."

Katie stares blankly as Connor tackles Travis, both of them crashing to the ground. Through the screaming, the laughing, the "you're dead to me, you're dead to me, Travis," the "wait, wait, wait, Connor! The vines! The vines are still growing! We're going to be strangled!" and the "Connor, please don't commit murder," there's a drumming in her head. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel her power boiling, itching to get out.

* * *

Turns out the girl was more than happy to come to help her. In fact, the very next morning when Katie was brushing her teeth, a body tackles her from behind. Full on tackle as in hands are wrapping around her waist and she's being lifted off the floor. Katie screams and beats her fist on the intruder's back. She's drop back onto the floor, stumbling back until her back hits the wall. There's the familiar sound of creaking.

Within moments, her attacker's arms are wrap taut to their body, a girl no older than her with short, black hair and a pair of green eyes that flashes with something dangerous.

"W-W-Who are you?" Katie stammers, clutching her chest.

Outside, someone groans. "Not again. Hurry, someone get pruners! And keep Connor away from his cabin!"

The girl smiles and struggles for a bit, awe on her face. "Wow, they weren't lying. You're really powerful. They're not giving. Hey, Katie, would you mind letting me go now?"

"I…" Little ivies crawl up from the walls to the girl. "I don't know how," Katie mutters. There are two beads hanging from her neck. A camper then…

The girl laughs and struggles some more. "Okay, we'll start there. My name is Veronica and I am going to be your mentor. Please take a while to learn so I don't have to go back to school ya?"

Veronica's lessons aren't really so much about control but draining her power reservoirs to a point she's able to turn on and off the growing. Then supposedly she works her control up from there. It sounds dubious, but it works. It really, really work and she never felt such control. Except, the lessons are… kind of exhausting. Exhausting to the point where after she's done practicing, the most she can do is drag herself back to the cabins and to her bed. Then her power reservoir will recharge back up to full capacity and she has to release it all again.

The forest is kind of becoming the Amazon jungles…

Veronica tells her this method is infallible. That eventually she will get a hold of her power and can live like any other demigods ("And you'll be able to kick anybody butts too." Veronica adds with stars in her eyes).

Katie thinks she would like it a lot more if it didn't make her muscles ache everywhere.

Connor reminds her it's for her fathers. Katie wishes that reminder gives her the strength Connor seems to think it does.

Travis reminds her that if she doesn't get better control, he'll prank her.

It isn't a great motivator until Travis dyes her hair green and snaps a picture to email back to her family.

Now it's a great motivator and Katie has every intention of getting back on the stupid Stolls.

 **Author's Notes:**

 ***throws confetti into the air* I updated! Sorry for being so behind on my updates. Normally I procrastinate by writing. But I can't procrastinate this quarter. I do and I'll seriously fall behind on my classes. I'm serious. I'm averaging 2 hours sleep a night on weekdays. It also didn't help I didn't know how to write Katie. I'm going to apologize in advance if I don't update until December.**

 **As always thank you so much to the commenters and** kudo **-ers and subscribers! I really appreciate you guys!**


	16. Malcolm - Coffee

**Malcolm — Coffee**

End of May

Malcolm (14) - Travis (14) - Connor (14)

post the titan's curse

* * *

"Can I have a caramel frappuccino and a caffe americano? Both large please."

"I'm sooorrr—sorry. What was that again?"

"A large caramel frappe and caffe americano," Malcolm says, putting forth a smile for the barista. The pretty brunette nods, holding back another yawn as she puts in his order. She mutters something that Malcolm is going to guess as 'it'll be right out sir' before departing.

Malcolm sits down on the couch just beside the back entrance. He slips his knapsack stripe over his head, leaving to close to his thigh. He takes out his book, a Dummy Guide to Knitting, and leaves it by his other side.

Then he waits.

He waits and waits and waits.

Until he can't wait anymore and give to the tick tick tick of his watch.

5:30 am.

An hour and 30 minutes till they're needed for start up at camp. An hour, 30 to complete their mission. An hour, 30 to finalize their plans. It didn't sound doable last week when Chiron put them up to the task and it especially doesn't sound doable now. But they have to do this. Failure isn't an option.

"One caffe americano and caramel frappucino!" the barista calls.

Malcolm retrieves the drinks, say a thank you to the brunette, and sits back down.

5:31 am.

Where are they? One of them is usually on time. Did something happen? Are they okay?

If shove comes to pull he supposes he can do it by himself but it'll kill him and he much rather live to see tomorrow.

By chance, his eyes drift out the window and he stiffens.

This is a nice cafe. Quiet and Empty with Sleepy, unobservant workers who won't bat an eye as he leaves his seat, transform his bookmark into a tessen and slices the cyclop's throat loitering by the entrance. This is a very nice cafe.

Malcolm sits back on the leather, tucking his bookmark back in his knitting book.

5:39 am.

If they're not here in six more minutes, he's leaving. But as soon as he finishes that thought, a bell jingles. The barista, still with traces of sleep in her voice, mumbles, "Good morning. Welcome to—"

And a boy's voice interrupts her, familiar and way too peppy for this ungodly hour, "Hi! Good morning. Sorry, we're in kind of a rush. Have you seen my friend? He's skinny, scrawny, but can kick your ass to Hades and back, have brown hair, gray eyes, these big square glasses, ah wait, I see him. Malcolm!"

Malcolm raises his head expecting to see Travis and Connor but it's just one brother coming to greet him. No. _Sprinting_ to him.

Something's wrong.

"Malcolm! Oh my god you need to help me. Connor. He's, he's trying to kill me! I barely escape with my—is that coffee? Can I have a sip? You don't drink coffee right?"

Without Malcolm having said a word, Travis swoops down on the caramel frappe and slurps it like a vacuum. His initial panic nothing more than a forgotten crisis.

But not to him and Malcolm shakes Travis' shoulders lightly. There's a dampness to his shirt and when he pulled his hand away, its spotted with red. And that's when Malcolm noticed the blood that spots his shirt. In fact, it's a lot of blood. Enough blood that Will will have a mini panic attack if he is here with them right now.

The bell to the backdoor jingles.

Travis jumps and scoots back from him, choking on his drink and eyes widening as he locks eyes on something behind him.

And in response, Malcolm swings his knapsack in an arc behind him.

"Holy fu—"

He didn't really know what state he expects Connor to be in. Starry-eyed, maybe. Sickly. Noncognizant. Probably mind-controlled. Not wide-eyed, not healthy looking, and definitely not able to duck his attack in time.

Travis coughs strenuously, slamming his frappe down on the table and shaking Malcolm hard with his free hand. "Dude, what were you doing?! That could have killed him!"

Connor stands, voice cracking as he says, "You could have killed me!"

"Travis said you were going to kill _him_. I thought you were being controlled or something," he argued, knocking Travis's hand off and sliding the knapsack back over his shoulder again.

"I was exaggerating, Talc! Ex-ag-ge-ra-ting."

And Malcolm is being shaken again, none too gently either too.

"Sorry, but Connor normally would never try to kill you so I thought—"

Travis screeches again and grabs him by the shoulder, ducking behind him as Connor vaults across a table to them.

"Stop using Malcolm as a shield, you coward," Connor growls.

Travis flinches and clings closer. "Malcolm, don't let him kill me."

And Malcolm pries the fingers off his shoulders. "Okay, this is starting to look like a family issue—"

"No, wait, don't leave me!"

"That can be resolved when we're safe and sound at camp."

"Yes! Yes, definitely!"

At Connor's glare, Travis winces and took off to the other side of the cafe to where the barista is now giving him, them, all three of them the evil eye.

"Let's talk about the plan with me over here, okay?" Travis shouts from the other side, taking a sip from his drink he swiped before leaving.

Connor takes a step towards Travis with possibly murder in his eyes, but Malcolm holds him back. Not really to protect Travis, oh no he's done getting in between relationships, but just to ask a question. Connor isn't injured. His pastel blue shirt is just that. Blue. No wet red, no drying brown, just blue.

"Connor, I need you to calm down for a minute."

"Malcolm, if you don't let me go, I'm going to pick you up and use you as a frisbee."

"And I 100% believe you're capable of that. No sarcasm, but is Travis okay? There's a lot of blood on his shirt."

Connor grits his teeth, but nods. "He's okay. The bleeding stopped."

"What happened?"

Connor tenses underneath his hand and there's a minuscule trembling in his clenched fists. Fear. Shame. Guilt. All three flash across Connor's face before it's all washed away to a carefully blank canvas.

"He was stabbed."

Stabbed? Travis? The fastest demigod in camp? It's hard to believe, but Connor's face is begging him to believe it. To leave it at that, to not ask any more questions and Malcolm forced his features to soften. He picks up the americano and presses it into Connor's hand. "He's fine now, right? I brought extra ambrosia if he needs it and we'll have Will check him out once we're back from our mission."

Connor didn't say anything back, staring at his drink with furrowed brows. Slowly his lips twitch upwards. "You got us our favorite drinks. Are you trying to get on our good side? It won't stop the pranks, you know?"

He shrugs. "I just want to be in your good books."

"Good books? Who told you we have good books?"

"Annabeth."

"Don't believe everything she says."

Still on the other side of the cafe, Travis yells, "Don't believe him. You keep buying us coffee and you'll definitely get in our good books. Hey, is Connor still mad at me?"

"Come over here and find out, asshat."

"Okay, he's still mad."

And Malcolm stifles a sigh as he tightens his strap and double check there's nothing left behind. It has always been like this when working with them. There's always something they're bickering about, sometimes small. Sometimes big. Either way, it's like taking a swig from a Monster.

Who needs coffee when the Stolls give him a bigger wake-up kick than any caffeinated drink ever could.

* * *

 **A tribute. To my all time favorite drink that kept me alive and going last quarter. Honorable mention: lemon water**


	17. Nico - Problem Solving

Forgot Nico's Birthday is in January. So he's turning 11 next month. The math all works out in my head because I distinctly remember him being three years younger than Percy.

 **Nico —** **Problem** **Solving**

Nico (10) - Travis (14) - Connor (13)

During the Titan's Curse.

December

* * *

Nico remembered the first time he met the Stoll Brothers.

He was ten and they were fourteen and thirteen.

He remembered them teaching (trying to teach) him poker.

He remembered one like to ruffle his hair more and the other like to swing an arm around his shoulder.

He remembered one was curious about his mythomagic card and one was more curious about his dad and mom and how they met, how they stayed together, what happened to her.

He remembered one of them saying "We're just like you and Bianca! We have the same mom and dad and we're not twins!"

And the other asking, "Aren't you worried about your sister?"

And he remembered scowling with tears pricking in his eyes. He snatched the bag of Cheetos from the circle they formed, the deck of cards scattered in the middle. He tore into the chips, munching angrily.

"She left me for the hunters. I don't care what happens to her."

But that's a lie and he remembers the brothers, the two brothers who still have each other, share a look.

"You don't mean that," one of them says cautiously.

But Nico still continues the lie. For whatever reason, he doesn't know why. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. Why don't you talk to her when she gets back?"

Tears brimmed in his eyes and he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. "You don't know Bianca, Travi—"

"Connor," Connor corrected.

"You don't know her, Connor. She's so bossy and won't listen to me at all. It's always 'do as I say.' She thinks she knows everything and, and, and _she was the only one to be okay with who I_ —" but she left, didn't she? Maybe she wasn't okay with him. Maybe she hated him.

The prick in his eyes burned harder and Nico pressed the heel of his hand against an eye. Shame. Betrayal. Regret. It all settled in his chest and clogged his throat. It's so so so hard to speak, but he managed to choke out, "I hate her for leaving me."

Connor frowned and Nico can see him mouthing what he didn't mean to say, what came out by complete accident ( _only one to be okay with who I — with who I —_ _who I —)_ and Nico's heart stop for a second at the thought of Connor founding out. But Connor's nice. He would be okay with it, right? He's not like the others. But Bianca also wasn't like the others and look where she is.

It's unfair. It's so unfair that Connor still has his brother, that Travis didn't leave him, didn't abandon him. That Travis loves him enough to stay and Bianca doesn't.

And maybe to flex on that, like the gods he learned existed just a mere week ago, are punishing him for his ignorance, Travis pulled him into a hug that Bianca would have done. Should have done.

"It's going to be okay, Nico You can cry. We won't judge."

"I'm not crying," he mumbled into the shirt and closed his eyes, letting himself imagine it's Bianca hugging him, that it's Bianca safe and sound with him.

Travis squeezed tighter. "Connor is really bossy too. Sometimes I want to tear my ears off. 'Don't forget to eat vegetables, Travis. Don't forget to do laundry, Travis. Don't forget we have sparring with the Ares cabin tomorrow and need an excuse, Travis.'"

"Hey! Clarisse will whoop our as— "

And Travis let him go to slap his hand over Connor's mouth, leaning into him till he toppled over. "But! I know he's bossy because he worries I'll slip and die in a hole somewhere."

Connor made a muffled noise of indignation, clawing his brother's hand off him. "You _would_ have died in a ditch somewhere without me. Remember, San Francisco? Aunt Merry? Do you remember how willingly you follow her back to her apartment?"

"She looked nice!"

"She kept commenting on how delicious you look!"

"She offered chocolate. That's like every 7 year old weakness."

"This was what I was talking about! I have every reason to be worried about you."

Nico's head lowered. He missed his sister. _Bianca… why did you leave?_

"Where was I going with this? Oh that's right." Travis turned back to him. "Hey, Nico. Maybe Bianca is bossy because she's like Connor? Not that I'm saying you're dumb like I was back then or anything."

"You're still kinda dumb," Connor snorted and Travis elbowed him in the arm.

"She's with the hunters. How can she boss me around if she's not around?" Nico moped.

Travis scratched the back of his head and looked off to the side with embarrassment. "Whoops, that's right. You should talk to her then. Ask why she left, you know?"

"I don't want to. I hate her."

Connor frowned and shook his head. "No. You definitely have to talk to her. Communication is everything. Even if Artemis doesn't allow it or if Bianca doesn't want to. You guys need to talk.

And Travis piped up with a wicked grin. "Connor and I will kidnap her from the group once she gets back! Dude, we should totally do it. It'll be fun."

"I don't want to talk with her," Nico pouted, nose scrunching.

And at the same time, Travis and Connor asked.

"Alrightie, we'll ask her for you. Are you okay with that?"

"Then you'll never see her again. Are you okay with that?"

"I...I...I don't know what I want. I just want… I just want McDonalds." And he raced out of the cabin to Half Blood Hill and stood beside Thalia's Pine. His eyes wandered over the horizon, _definitely_ not hoping to see if his sister and Percy are back yet.

But he didn't see anyone.

Talk? Why bother talking? Bianca hates him. She left without even telling him why. She _hates_ him. That's it. That's the answer. They should be back any second now. And he'll prove to them his sister sucks.

* * *

But Bianca never came back.

The war continued.

And life is just a cruel joke

* * *

Nico (11) - Travis (15) - Connor (14)

Post- Battle of the Labyrinth

Nico stands at Half Blood Hill, back to camp and looking at the path before him. The well-tread road is sprinkled with fallen leaves and pine cones. A couple of cars are park beyond.

He looks back over his shoulder, pressing the image of the Big House, of the strawberry fields, of the climbing wall and volleyball courts in his mind. He isn't accepted here but it didn't mean he didn't like it. This is probably as close to home as he'll ever have.

Nico sighs softly, turns his head back around, and nearly yelps when he sees one of the Stoll brothers. He didn't though. Which is good. He _does not_ need to give the Stolls more blackmail material. Those pictures they took before his life fell apart are enough. (not that they can do anything with them. He'll kill them if they ever tried to blackmail him.)

The son of Hermes smiles apologetically.

Nico squints at the brother, dragging all the memories he could from last year up about these two. Poker. Chips. More card games. And more junk food. Plus the occasional, nagging, 'eat your veggies.'

But, no, he can't tell who it is.

And it seems he knows it too because, he says, "I'm Connor."

"What do you want?" Nico says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Connor cocks his head to the side. "Nothing, just wondering where you are going?"

"Where do you think?"

"Are you coming back?"

"What do you think?"

He grins softly. "Yes?"

Nico rolls his eyes and shoves past him.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Hey, are you really leaving? It's a cruel world out there." Connor wraps his hand on his arm and Nico stiffens. Immediately the hand leaves.

"Sorry," Connor mutters, "Um, you don't have to leave, you know."

"Would you stop?" he snaps, "I'm not going to stay in a place where everybody hates me."

And for a quick second hurt flashes across his face before it's quickly replaced with a small grin.

"I don't hate you, Nico."

"I'm a son of Hades, Connor. Everybody hates us. I'm not going to be accepted anywhere, not by anyone."

"Well, Hermes and Hades have a great relationship, you know? Probably the best out of all the Olympian Gods so… "

Nico responses by pulling his hoodie over his head and stuffs his hands back into the pockets.

Connor sighs but didn't try to stop him. "Be careful, Nico. Don't mess with any funny people. I know safe places all over the states if you need a place to sleep. And I have several friends that can give you a job for some quick cash. And if you get into legal trouble, I know a person who'll—"

"Bye, Connor."

"Wait, I think Travis wants to say goodbye too. Can you wait—"

Nico shakes his head and takes off running down the hill, to the shadows from the trees. He made it all the way down to the base of the hill before a horrendously loud voice comes bounding up the hill. "Wait! Where is he? Is he gone already? Oh, wait! Is that him? Nico!"

And he blends into the shadows, disappearing far and away from the haven.

* * *

 _ **Author's** ** _note_ :**_ Thank you for reading this far and a huge thank you to those who reviewed! I appreciate them all! I decided 2019 to be the year I finish all my WIPs. I might not work on this fic that much though.


	18. Cabin 11 - Cursing

_Warning: a little bit more cursing than what I usually have._

 **Cabin 11 — Cussing**

Travis (16) - Connor (15)

Pre-The Last Olympian

June

Don't poke fun, Azazel.

Don't cause trouble, Azazel.

Don't be rude, Azazel.

All very simple things to do, according to my leaders.

Yet not even the end of day 1 and I failed all three. See, what happened was entirely not my fault. I blamed the twins. Aeron told me they're not twins, but that's bullshit. They share the _same freaking face_. Gods don't go back for a second kid. They have to be twins.

But I'm digressing.

The point is I am not at fault.

It's Connor.

Everything is Connor's fault.

* * *

It started out fine.

I got dropped off at Camp Half Blood. That was fine.

I talked with Chiron. That was also fine.

I got a tour of the camp. That went fine too.

I met Travis. Also went fine.

Then I met Connor and that's when everything went not fine.

I admit we didn't meet in the most positive way. Okay, our first meeting wasn't exactly friendship starting. It wasn't even acquaintance worthy. I guess it's might have been more like a WWE greeting. I might have elbowed him in the stomach. Might have.

But it was a complete, total accident.

That's what I know for sure.

See, I got to camp around 8 pm and not around 6 pm because Aeron got lost. Not my fault. And my tour guide plus talk with Chiron lasted until 10. Also not my fault. And my meeting with Travis took 30 minutes. The guy would not stop talking. Definitely not my fault. By the time I was done showering and brushing my teeth, it was already midnight.

I was _tired_ , okay? I had a long day. I deserve the rest. So I guess… I might have… I don't really remember all too well… okay, fine, I jumped into bed. It's what I always did before back at the grounds. Why should I change my habit here?

I was assigned bed 14, lower bunk. I did check but my dyslexia must have mixed up 14 with 18. Whatever, no biggie. It happens, yeah?

But imagine my surprise when my elbow connected with flesh and my back with limbs. It was definitely a wake-up call. And it was also a wake up call when I was pushed off by the lump and rolled onto the floor, flat on my stomach, with my arm pinned to the floor. A knee dug into the middle of my back and when it ground down, I yelped.

The light turned on and I twisted to see which bastard was pinning. When I saw it was Travis, I was ready to tear his heart out and chop it in the blender. But up above, a similar face peered down from the top bunk, sleepy-eyed. It hits me that Travis has a brother. A twin who is more bellicose. A twin who is more confrontational. A twin who is better at kicking ass. A twin named —

"Connor?" Travis yawned. "What are you doing?"

Connor glared at me before he flashed a beaming smile up to Travis. His hand let go of my wrist, but the knee remained. "Nothing. Just another newbie trying to murder me again. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Travis yawned again. "Okay. Yell if you need me. Goodnight."

Then he rolled back to bed and out of sight.

Connor's still on top of me and I bucked up, twisting back and forth. "Let me go! What the fuck is your problem?"

Connor held on for a second longer, a second much too long, _I'm going to kill this son of a_ — before standing up. I shot to my feet in a second and shoved my finger in his chest.

"What was that for, dickwad?"

An eyebrow rise. "Dickwad?"

"Yeah, shitface. Why did you attack me?"

That seems to get his attention. He leveled his eyes to me. His blue hues reminded me of Richard back at the grounds. Richard was a dick too. "I attacked you? You attacked me first, 'shitface'."

Then he knocked my finger away.

A wave of "ohhh" followed. I looked around us and saw a sea of faces grappled with the confrontation unfolding in front of them. Shit, we must have woken them all up.

"Fight, fight, fight!" A girl shouted from a top bunk.

A boy from the lower bunk rose and hushed the girl. He wasn't young like the others. He seems more like my age.

"Callie, shh. Don't scream. Let's just all go to bed."

There's a collective groan.

"Why are you always a party pooper, Chris?" the girl whined.

"It's 1 in the morning. Everybody go to bed," Connor ordered. Then he turned to me and glares. "That means no cannonballing on to the bed."

That pisses me off for some reason. Because I was absolutely sure that _he_ was in _my_ bed. In hindsight, I was completely wrong. I mean, I could clearly see two beds down an empty bed with my suitcase on it. But then and now, with my sleep-deprived state, I was absolutely sure I was right.

"You're in my bed."

He scoffed, "You're on bed 18."

"Yeah, that's 18."

"No, this is 14."

"It's 18."

"14."

The guy who shushed the girl earlier rose again and got in between us. He's peering anxiously at the top bunk, whispering, "Hey, let's keep our voices down. The harpies are out and we really don't want them to—"

But Connor only turned his back to Chris, facing the cabin with a disgustingly saccharine smile. At once, everybody fell silent. "Lights off. We have another busy day tomorrow. Come on Azazel I'll show you where—"

I rolled my eyes. "And what are the harpies going to do? Scold us? Are you that much of a wimp?"

Connor's smile tightened and I could feel a wave of bad energy rolling off him. "You know, you are _really_ starting off on a bad foot for your first day here."

"Hey, guys, please don't fight. This is just a misunderstanding," Chris pleaded, but I didn't spare him a look.

I raised my head and straightened my back to reach my outstanding full height of 5'3". But Connor still looked down at me. God, I hate being short.

"Well, you aren't leaving a great impression either. Aren't you supposed to be the head counselor? You're not very welcoming."

"Connor, come on. Be the bigger person…"

Connor crossed his arm. "And you tried to kill me with your elbow yet not once have you said sorry. Manners take you places, you know?"

"Too loud. Library voices, guys. Come on. It's not that hard."

I rolled my eyes. "That wouldn't have killed you. Stop being so dramatic."

"Connor, you're supposed to be the role model here. Stop arguing." Chris tried to place a hand on Connor's shoulder but Connor rolled it off. The glare he gave could freeze water in a desert. Chris backed away immediately and I could see guilt, shame in his eyes. The cabin fell into a heavier silence.

There's something going on here. There's bad blood between them. I could see that. And I could also see the camp beads on their necks. Aeron said they corresponded to the number of years they been at camp. Connor has 8. Chris has 5.

Something happened between them.

Maybe something I can use.

Connor turned back to me, smile grossly sweet again. "Follow me. I show you where —"

A door creaked.

Connor's eyes widened.

He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me down to the dirty floor as Chris dived for his bed. The lights turned off.

But it turned back on a second later and I got a good look at what I always called the night guard from hell.

Harpies are always creepy up close.

The harpy didn't come inside, instead only crossing her arms and tapping her chicken feet on their wooden. "It's past curfew. Lights were supposed to be off hours ago. Where is your counselor?"

Connor leaped up and approaches the front with the easiest going smile I ever saw. It's like magic, watching how fast he switched personas.

"Hey, Aello!" He walked to the front door. "Sorry, we just had a misunderstanding with our new roommate. You know how it is sometimes."

"I still have to write a citation."

Someone groaned.

Aello narrowed her eyes. "Which one are you?"

Connor smiles widen. "I'm Connor, you know, the one that got you that blueberry muffin for your birthday!"

"Uh-huh. Sure you did." Aello obviously didn't trust his word. I wouldn't either. "Well, where's your brother? I need you both here."

Connor's smile dropped a bit. "He's sleeping. I can take the citation."

"Wake him up."

Connor inhaled slowly, the smile becoming more strained. "He's sleeping though."

The harpy tapped her claw faster. "I'll give it to you both. Celaeno told me the last time she gave you a citation, you never signed and returned it."

"But—"

"Just wake him up," the harpy finally snapped.

Connor's jaw clenched, but he stepped aside. "Fine. You do it."

"Uh, Connor, I don't think that's a really good—" Chris started, but Connor shook his head.

" _My night is already ruined. I might as well ruin hers too_." Then to the harpy, he nodded. "Go on. He's three beds down, on the left, top bunk."

I watched the harpy sauntered down the cabin, clawed feet scratching on the board. Chris bite his lower lip, looking back and forth between Connor and Aello. He looks scared. But Connor looked fine. Even amused and … wait, is that a camcorder in his hands?

Aello is by Travis's bed. She called his name a few times, but Travis didn't shift. Then she rattled the bed. Travis didn't respond. Then she's yelling his name. Travis didn't move _at all._

He got to be faking it. No one can be that heavy a sleeper.

Then the harpy climbed the ladder.

Chris couldn't hold back anymore. "Aello, don't touch Travis while he's—"

She grabbed what I think is the ankle. I don't know. I can't see everything from my angle.

What I do know is that a foot comes flying towards Aello's face. And I watch it connect with her face with so much force she's tumbling off the ladder, squawking all the way down and Connor's cracking the music to her downfall. She landed to the sound of our snickers.

Travis jerked upright, peering from the top.

"Oh man."

He winced.

"Someone please tell me this is a dream."

* * *

I really regretted not paying attention when Aeron was going over Greek Mythology. If I had known who Hermes was, I would have been a lot more careful.

I woke up due to Connor's (or is that Travis's screaming?) "Wake up. Get ready. We have 15 minutes till breakfast and we are not going to be late again. Hey, WWE World Champion on bed 18, get up!"

No, that's definitely Connor.

I rolled over and pulled the cover over me just to spite him. Screw this guy. He isn't the boss of me. I'll get up when I want to get up.

Then my blanket is ripped off of me. I sit upright in anger, 1000% ready to cuss out that son of a bitch, when I see it's Cassie (Callie? Caddie? What was her name again?) smiling at me with her soft, 7-year-old features.

"Azazel, it's time to get up," she says with the brightest of smiles and I'm not enough of an asshole to refuse an elementary kid.

I threw my legs to the side, but rather than the feel of my bunny slippers, I felt something cold. Slimy. Gooey.

Oh my god.

Cassie, Callie, Caddie, who the fuck cares, burst into laughter and raced to a grinning Connor.

"Connor! Connor! I did it! Did you see? Did you?! It was super easy!" That little twerp giggled, high-fiving him. Connor smiled back with a proud smile that makes me want to barf.

"Great job, Callie! You're getting really good at setting up pranks."

I'm going to kill them. They're gonna die. They're gonna suffer. They're gonna regret —

Travis burst out of the restroom, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "Alright everyone we all _really_ have to get going. Up, up, up. Derrick, stop faking it. Erica, I can see you hiding up there. Kevin, put down the Gameboy. Azazel, get…"

I glare at him, daring him to say something. Anything.

Travis opened his mouth but closed it smartly a second later. Only to be a complete dumbass again as he smirked. "You fell for a prank like that? Come on, Azazel. You gotta pay attention."

"And it was so easy!" the twerp said.

"You're all a bunch of fucking dicks," I grumbled.

No sooner I said that a jar was shoved in my face. I glare at the holder, Travis, who now doesn't have a smirk on his face.

"No cursing. Write your name on the paper and put it inside."

Is he being serious? His face says he's being serious. I didn't move for the Sharpie and slip of paper. "Why?"

"We have a strict no cursing rule."

"You're kidding," I say with raised eyebrows.

His face tells me he isn't. Is he for real? "Parents don't like it when their kids cuss."

I stand, shaking the disgusting goo off my feet. Shit, Travis is the same height as Connor. "You do know that in the real world, there's cursing everywhere? Movies, books, the internet."

Travis nodded, but his face told me he's not relenting. "Yeah, and that would be on the parent. I don't want it on me. They can go yell at themselves or the school. I don't them yelling at me. So take a piece of paper, write your name, and put it in."

I gritted my teeth as I take the paper and scribble my name on it. As I drop it into the jar with a few other pieces of paper, I asked, "What's that for?"

And he smirks as he goes to put the jar on a nightstand. "I realize it's unfair to use drachma as punishment. Not everybody has it and drachma is valuable for Iris Messaging and transportation. So to be completely equitable, at the end of Summer we each create a truth or dare and draw five papers from the swear jar to pair it with."

I gawked at the jar. "There's only 4 papers in that jar."

"Yeah, so?"

"There's 50 of us!"

Travis shrugged. "Then you shouldn't have cuss."

"You son of a — what about your brother! He cusses a lot more than I do!"

Cassie, Callie, Caddie piped up with an upraised hand, smiling brighter than the sun. "He gets his own jar! Everytime he says a bad word, we get to write a truth or dare. But everytime we say a bad word, he gets to take a paper out."

Connor smirked and plucked a slip from the jar labeled in crayon, 'Connor's Potty Mouth.' "Yeah, so thank you very much, _Azazel_. Get ready. We're lining up and if we're late, Chiron isn't going to be happy."

By chance, he read the slip and turned around with a pout, waving the piece of paper. "Okay, who wrote this? 'You'll give everyone in the cabin 100 drachmas.' That's not a dare. That's burglary!"

And somewhere in the back a kid groaned. "Thanks, Azazel. You ruined our chances of becoming rich."

"I hate you all."

I stomped to the restroom, slammed the door as loud as I possibly can, and kicked it for good measure too.

Dicks. Stupid shits. They're all goddamn ugly shits. I can't wait till they're all begging on their knees for their lives. Others failed before me. But I'm different. My mother's veins flow more strongly in me than my siblings. To fight. To win. It's what I was born to do.

Someone pounded on the door, telling me to hurry up, that they're about to leave. I ignored them and crouched by the door, waiting, biding my time. Eventually, the laughter ceased. The noises dimmed. People are leaving and I wait till it's completely silent. Till everybody is gone.

I stood after two minutes of utter silence. They should all be out by now.

But when I exited, there stood Travis, leaning against a bunk bed. He raised a hand. "Hey."

"What do you want?" I said.

"Just to say sorry. Your first days are kinda starting out rough," Travis had the audacity to said. As if he didn't play a key role in it. As if he didn't encourage their behavior.

"Then maybe do your job and make sure this shit doesn't happen again," I snapped. I hurled my towel at him, but he leaned easily out of the way.

The cabin is empty. It's just us.

It's just us, but it feels so small.

Travis is staring at me. He's acting weird. He's grinning weirdly. And, _shit,_ I can feel my hands getting clammy.

"Hey, Azazel, how old are you?" He asked casually, like he's talking about the weather.

"None of your business." I tried to walk past him, but Travis side-stepped to the center, blocking me from leaving, blocking the only exit. I narrowed my eyes. There's no windows besides me. The bathroom behind has no escape too. Trapped. Cornered. Does he know? Is this why he's doing this? No, his body posture is too relaxed. He doesn't know.

Travis tapped his chin in faux thought. "I'm gonna guess 16, just like me. Am I right?"

"Why do you want to know? Are you some kind of sicko pervert?"

"Any idea who your Godly parent is?"

"I don't give a fuck about that."

Travis's smile became strained. "What are you here for? We normally get 12 year olds since that's when the monsters start coming."

"Why do you want to know? Does it even matter?"

And again Travis's smile tightened. It's creepy. A bad feeling crawled into my stomach.

"Just asking. It's the usual questions we ask all newcomers. Normally by the time a demigod hits their 16th birthday, they know how to handle monsters. Do you have family issues back home? It's okay. I totally understand. I have mommy issues and Connor has everybody issues."

"I'm done being interrogated. Where are the others?"

I could literally hear the ding.

Travis's head lower but I could still see his grin. Stilted. Bitter. Tired.

It's scary.

 _He's scary._

And I couldn't help reach into my pocket to clasp my lucky charm. His eyes followed my hands and I want to curse myself. Body control. Face expression. Pulse. Breathing. Everything Aeron taught me is flying out the window.

Travis turned around and walk to the door, voice back to its usual chirpiness and easy going quality like nothing. "They're eating right now. Come on, I'll lead you to the dining common."

He opened the door, but waited for me. I sucked up my trepidation and took cautious steps towards the door. But as I strode past him, his voice flitted between us. Too soft, too low, too _subdued_ that if I wanted I could brush it off as my imagination.

" _Aeron is wrong."_

But when I whipped around, all I see is that easy-going smirk he had that morning. He motioned with his hand to the dining commons. "You hungry?"

He knows. He knows. _He knows._ _What the fuck. Aeron, you fucking bastard. You said your half-brothers were fucking idiots._

* * *

Author's notes: As a daily user of Reddit and Tumblr, I always see people complain about reviews, about not getting enough even though there's _this_ many views, _this_ many visitors, _this_ many followers. Do I feel the same way? Yeah whenever I check my stat page which I rarely do. Getting reviews makes me so happy and sometimes that high carries on throughout the day to the next. (Big shout out to not so cliche and demigod-wizard-gatekeeper for being the best!) Some people say if you make it to the end of a fanfic, you should leave a comment. I disagree. If you don't want to review, I won't force you. I won't withhold chapters. Reading shouldn't be stressful and if writing a review gives you anxiety or if you don't have the energy to write one, then it's okay. Don't worry about it. (But if you do have the time and the energy and the want to write one, you would literally make my day.)


	19. Silena - Superpowers

**Silena — Superpowers**

Silena 11 - Travis 11 - Connor 10

— September —

Demigod.

Half god. Half human.

She. A half-blood. She has immortal blood flowing through her veins.

It all sounds like a fairy tale to be honest. Something her friends back home might make up. But no. This is real. The duffel bag in her hands is real. The harsh sun warming her bare arms is real. The man in the motorized wheelchair is real.

And her dad driving away, wheels skidding, is real.

"Ms. Beauregard," Chiron says with a tired smile like he has seen this a thousand times. "Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

* * *

—December 26th—

At the start of the school year, Silena was looking forward to a fun easy life as a 5th grader. Not once did she imagine she'd be here, in a magical camp with superpowered people and superpowered animals. She _couldn't_ imagine it. All of the things around her used to be just stories in her textbook.

And now she's one of them.

But she still feels like Silena Beauregard, an amazingly ordinary 5th grader with no outstanding talent.

She's not super smart like Annabeth.

Or super creative like Travis and Connor.

Nor super charismatic like Luke even with his scary scar.

She's… she's just normal.

Even the other people in the cabin… Chris is very sneaky. Aeron is good with people. Millie is brilliant with computers. Chevette can sing like no other. And Holden is one with nature.

Then there's Clarisse and how she's good at every weapon, Lee and his skill for all instrument. Charlie and his remarkable crafts…

What does she have?

"What are you thinking about?"

Silena jolts and Annabeth leans her head back from where she sits cross-legged, back to her.

"You seem distracted."

Silena shakes her head and smiles even though Annabeth can't see it. She resumes carding through Annabeth's golden strands with her fingertips, deftly parting it into three.

"I wasn't thinking of anything."

"Hm." Annabeth makes a noncommittal noise before rolling her head back again. "What braid are making?"

Silena nudges Annabeth's head back to place. "Don't move. Just a french braid."

"Ah."

She'd only ever did this once and it was back in 3rd grade but it's like Janette is by her side, instructing her of the mechanism. Part into three. Fold Over. Draw more hair. Fold over. Draw more hair. Fold over.

' _Wow you're a natural at this, Silena!'_ Janette used to say. Braiding. Buns. Styling. The right amount of time on the curling iron to get the perfect curl. It just all comes naturally to her.

"Hey, you know?" And Annabeth's head rolls back again.

"Annabeth, don't mo—"

"You made Travis and Connor sad."

Silena's fingers twitch and she lost a few strands from her index finger. "I did?"

"Yeah." Annabeth nods, and the braids come entirely outdone. "When you lied about liking your presents."

Their Christmas presents to her five days ago: a beautiful encyclopedia about horses and a cute snowman sweater. Both she really likes. Both she'll treasure for the years to come.

"But I did like them!" Silena moves to sit in front of Annabeth, cross-legged. "I wasn't lying. Why would they think I'm lying?"

Annabeth crosses her arms. "What did you say to them?"

"Um… I don't remember. Uh, thank you so much. I love them both?"

"And did you?"

"Yes! of course!"

Annabeth lift an eyebrow and Silena cower a bit under her sharp eyes.

"I mean… I… already have the encyclopedia back home. And my friend brought me that same sweater last year, but I still meant it when I said I loved it!"

"No, you didn't. It just made you miss home."

Home. Where she has all her beautiful clothes that's not just one color and soft bedspread that doesn't smell and her own room where she doesn't have to worry about snoring and normal friends. Her comforting, luxurious home. Silena bites her lips, shaking her head. "No, they abandoned me. I don't care what—"

"Travis can detect lies with pinpoint accuracy, you know."

"He can?" Silena whispers lowly. _Pin… point… accuracy?_ "How accurate is it?"

Annabeth nods. "It's like a punch to the gut. The more intentional the lie, the stronger the punch. A white lie tickles. Fabrication feels like a pinch. Libel gives him tummy aches. And a lie to hide secrets sting. All of it is detected unconsciously when he asks a question. Lying to Travis is impossible."

Silena blanches. So that's why Travis laughed all of the sudden and why Connor's smile faltered. "Well, what was I supposed to say? 'Thanks, but I hate it?'"

"Exactly. Say it just like that."

"But that's so cruel!" Annabeth might have the heart to be honest all the time, but not her. She can't. It's unnecessarily insulting! Plus, she doesn't really know them all that well. What if she just makes them angry? What if they never want to talk to her again?

Annabeth sighs and sweeps her hair up into a ponytail, tying it with the band around her wrist. "You're too nice sometimes, Silena. Just wait till they prank you. They seriously don't mind. But if you really want to lie… then just don't answer Travis' questions. If he asked how's your day, divert his attention. You can literally say anything and he'll follow along. And it's only Travis with this ability. You can lie to Connor all you want and he wouldn't know."

Silena cheers. Leave it to Annabeth to know how to get around powers! But she wonders… if Connor doesn't have the same ability then what does he have? "Does Connor have any special powers of his own?"

"I'm positive he has _some_ kind of ability, but I haven't discovered it yet. Want to help?"

And she shakes her head. "No, not really, but I'll be your personal cheerleader in this endeavor of yours! Go~ Annabeth!"

* * *

 ** _Notes: To sagefeather, not so cliche, and demigod wizard gatekeeper: thank you for reading and leaving me your thoughts! They're always appreciated and very encouraging :D_**

 _ **To guest: I can totally see what you mean. Writing this made me realize I like writing connected MC fics more than one-shots. People who can write effective one-shots are amazing. If you want to suggest a beta reader, go ahead. I'll go check them out.**_


	20. Silena - Lies

**Genre: angst**

 **Silena — Lies**

Silena 16 - Travis 16 - Connor 15

Post Beckendorf's death, Pre Battle of Manhatten

When Silena was 11, she wanted to be a hairdresser. That's why she braided Annabeth's hair all the time. When she was 12, she wanted to be a fashion designer. That's why she made Clarisse be her model. When she was 13, she thought about being a horse trainer. That's why she asked Percy to be her interpreter for horse body language. When she was 14, she fell in love and wanted to be an engineer. That's why she stuck close to Travis and Connor and watched them set up their pranks.

And when she was 15, she wanted to be a hero. That's why she asked Chris to teach how to be strong, how to fight better, faster, to be unmatchable. Because there's a war coming (a war she helped cause) her friends will be in danger (a danger she inflicted upon them) and she wants to protect them (because she can't bear their death on her hands).

When Silena was 16, she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

* * *

A shame. An insult. An abnormality. They think she doesn't know what they say behind her back but she knows. She knows everything her siblings say about her and her refusal to do the rite of passage

Incomplete. Unfinished. A disgrace.

Whispers that's not really whispers rings from all corners of her cabin that no amount of fake sorting of her nightstand will cover up.

She sees red pass the tears and beyond the red, she sees their taunting smirks and callous attitude. And hunters. She sees the hunters and the scorn they held for the love she felt.

She stands, takes a step forward to her dear siblings, and is pulled back by the arm.

Connor's voice hisses in her ear, "Calm down!"

And Travis's voice, louder, more cheerful, "We'll be right back. We just have to talk with Silena really fast. You all should really go to bed."

She's drag outside to the bottom of the porch and to the side of the banister. The cool night air doing nothing to soothe the burning she feels.

"They were badmouthing Charlie," she chokes out, not liking the disapproval lining Connor's face.

His eyes soften. "I know. I know. And you have every right to be pissed. But you can't be pissy now. Not when we have a battle coming soon. You'll damage their morals."

"And damaged morals means troubled minds, and a troubled mind means a distracted mind, and distracted mind is a dead demigod," Travis says, regurgitating the lesson Chiron tells them all the time as counselors.

Silena tears her arm away, trying and failing to control her ragged breathing. "I-I know. I wasn't about to— I wasn't gonna—"

But she could see Beckendorf and his kindness and his selflessness and how she's nothing like him and how if he could really see her for who she is, he wouldn't love her. He wouldn't want to be with her and Silena curls up and sobs again.

"I got the hot chocolate, Travis," Connor says, before taking off in a full powered run.

Travis sinks to his knees too, a hand wrapping around her back. He said nothing, did nothing except stay by her side.

Eventually, she cries all she could and she's left sniffling as she traces a circle in the dirt with a finger.

"Why were you guys here so fast?" she mumbles.

"Because we know how mean your cabin is, no offense," Travis says, nudging her with his elbow. "And knowing how hot-headed you are, that you'll probably kick their butts. Gods, I still remember that time you almost fought Zoe. I can't believe it's been 2 years since that day."

She laughs even though it hurts to.

2 years ago she was just a dumb kid with no idea about love, about loss. Just a dumb kid living a dumb lie that Luke'll keep his promise.

"Yeah, I remember," she sniffles. "You guys held me back then too."

"Zoe could have whipped your butt."

"Yeah, I guess, but I would make her eat dirt before she does."

Travis snorts. "Sure, you will."

"I can too."

"Uh-huh."

She hits Travis's arm lightly. "Stop doubting me, you meanie."

"I'm being realistic. Zoe has like a thousand years of fighting experience while you're like… an above average fighter in your cabin, but compared to the rest of the campers, you're very, very much average, right?"

Silena swallows the lump in her throat. The average camper isn't a spy. The average camper isn't a 2-faced liar. The average camper isn't a cowardly bastard like her. But still, she forces a grin and chuckle. "Yeah, you're right. I'm completely average."

A moment mistake.

A forgotten power.

Careless words. That was all it took

All this time, all these years she's been careful, so very careful about what she said, to who she said it to, the questions she kept an ear open for. All that work and effort.

Gone.

And Silena realizes her mistake when Travis stiffens, a hand going to clutch his stomach.

"You're…" Travis frowns and he stares at her, really stares at her and Silena did her best to keep her poker face, to mask the screaming she feels in her chest.

Then his eyes widen and he's scooting away from her. Her heart fell.

Travis stands, almost tripping in his haste. "You're… lying to me. Which is very hurtful by the way. I'm trying to be nice to you and you don't trust me. I'm going to go tell Connor what a big meanie you are. You just stay right here."

Silena blinks once and Travis is running to the cabin store.

He knows. He's going to tell Connor. They're going to tell Chiron. Chiron'll tell the whole camp. And then everybody will know she's a traitor. That she caused Beckendorf's death. Lee's death. Castor. Bianca. Everybody.

And no. She doesn't want that.

Travis is fast.

But she's faster and she takes a deep breath and says. "Stop running."

He stops running.

She stands and lowers her head.

"Go back to your cabin and sleep. Forget this moment ever happen."

And he's did as he's told.

Silena watches him go back to his cabin, his movements stilted and robotic. She bites her lips and stifles the rising sob.

She's going to Tartarus for this. If Connor doesn't do it for her, she'll gladly do it herself.

* * *

Connor comes barging into her cabin in the middle of the night. Her light sleeping cabinmates wake up screaming and their screaming wakes up the others till it's all a screaming fest, but Connor isn't deterred. He marches to her bed and even afar she could see the panic in his eyes.

Her chest tightens.

She wants to run. She wants to hide.

But Connor is already beside her and he grabs her by the shoulders, eyes wild.

"Silena, there's something wrong with Travis. He's acting really weird. What happened after I left for hot chocolate?"

Her throat thickens.

"What are you talking about? I didn't see Travis after dinner."

Connor gawks at her. "What?"

"A couple of hours ago, at dinner, that was when I last spoke with him."

Connor scoffs unbelievably. He spins around, asking her cabinmates, "You saw us right? We definitely came in here before curfew? You saw us right?!"

Silena watches them all shake their head and Connor grows silent. He doesn't stop breathing heavily. He doesn't calm down. And Silena could see it, she could see the wheels spinning. Connor isn't Travis. But he's smarter and Silena knows it.

"Connor," she says, sitting higher on her bed.

Connor's angles his sharp, blue eyes to her.

"You should rest. You're tired. Forget about this."

Connor glowers. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one going crazy."

And he lefts with the same sharp, blue eyes.

* * *

 **Notes** _ **: I realized I can only get my motivation by handwriting first. Problem is typing takes sooo long.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading! And any reviews are appreciated. I am also a-okay with concrit!**_


	21. Chris - Grudge

**Tags: anxiety, discrimination, bullying, coercion**

 **Chris — Grudge**

Chris (16) - Travis (15) - Connor (14)

Post Battle of the Labyrinth

"Yes."

"No."

"You have to."

"I don't want to."

"Tomorrow. You're gonna do it.

"Please don't make me, Clarisse."

"Okay, tonight."

" _Clarisse_."

"Right now then."

Chris closes his eyes and inhales slowly. Gods, he loves her. He really, really do. Her tenacity. Her stubbornness. Her fierceness. Her bravery. He loves it all. But right now, right at this very moment, he hates all of it.

"Clarisse, please, listen to me. You don't know them," Chris pleads again, but Clarisse's scowl only deepens.

"No, you listen. I have been living with them these past years. I know them better than you."

"Connor will hate me. He'll kick me out. I know he will."

"Then I'll kick Connor's butt. Simple as that."

Nothing is simple with Connor. And Chris is ready to begin another bout of pleading when someone knocks on the door to the weaponry.

"Chris? Hello~?" A girl peeks into the room. She's young. Couldn't be older than 8 at most. Her eyes lock onto them and she smiles cheekily.

"Travis asks when you're coming back to the cabin," the girl asks.

And Clarisse, in all her beautiful glory and bluntness, states without consulting him at all, "He's coming back right now, Callie. Go ahead and tell Travis and Connor."

"Okay!" Callie nods and her toothy smile widens before the door closes.

Chris pales.

"No, Clarisse, I can't. I _can't_. I really, really can't—"

"Shut up and listen," Clarisse snaps, but her eyes soften just a tad and she places a hand on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter what Travis and Connor think. You changed. You're good now. And if they can't accept that, then that's on them."

"But… but…"

The dread in his heart didn't lift a bit. Clarisse doesn't know Connor. Clarisse doesn't know how long Connor can hold grudges. The small prank he pulled back when he was 9 resulted in a month of revenge pranks.

A month. For one measly, harmless prank.

That measly prank back then… compared to his offense now…

The problems he created. The peers he convinced to join their cause. The deaths he indirectly caused. He's irredeemable. He shouldn't be forgiven. What was Clarisse thinking bringing back his sanity? Going back to Cabin 11, especially now after such a painful battle… it'll only bring discomfort.

"Chris," Clarisse said, "it's going to be fine. Let's go."

"Can't I keep hiding out in the weaponry?" Gods, even to him he sounds pathetic. Clarisse shakes her head and opens the door, gesturing with her head to get a move on.

Chris sighs and wills his hands to stop shaking. "Yeah. Okay. You're right. Might as well get this over with."

He stands and heads outside.

 _Fine. It's going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine._

A step out to the paved gravel, a turn to the cabins, a step towards the cabins.

 _Fine. It'll be fine._

One more step to the cabins, one more, one more, one more.

 _It'll all be fine._

More steps, more walking, more shuffling his feet till he's there, standing before the cabin he called home 3 years ago. The cabin he forsook with Luke to create a better home.

It looks just like it did years ago.

He steps onto the porch.

The creaky board is still the same.

One more step on the stairway.

Nobody fixed the broken rod from that time Luke tried to do parkour.

Another step. He's five steps from the front door.

The front window is still missing its panel.

Four.

Somebody still hasn't swept the pine cones off the porch.

Three.

The plaque with their cabin's name is still faded and unreadable.

Two.

And that porch light is still broken.

One.

He freezes.

He can't do this.

"You can do this," Clarisse says firmly behind him.

Do it all at once. Rip it off like it's a bandaid. Just do it.

And he grabs the doorknob, twists, pushes, and yells first with his eyes squeezed tight.

"H-Hi everybody!"

Silence.

It's completely silent. Is nobody inside? Did he luck out?!

He peeks an eye open and the first thing they zero in on was the banner being strung across the ceiling by two kids on a ladder.

' _Welcome back,'_ it says.

The second thing he notices, the multicolored balloons scatter throughout the cabin.

The third, his half brother (Travis? Connor?) sitting on the nightstand with a balloon weight in his hands and a blond kid he doesn't recognize on the bed beside him.

His brother is shocked, mouth slightly open, hands frozen,

Nobody move. Nobody talk. Nobody even breathes.

Until (Travis? Connor?) drops the weight and it thumps on the floor. With agility Chris definitely did not remember his half-brother possessing, he leaps from the nightstand, vaults over two of their cabinmates, and topples over a picture frame to stand in front of him.

He skids to a stop, sneakers squeaking on the hardwood.

Behind him, Clarisse mutters, "Spaz."

(Travis? Connor?) smiles widely. "Chris! You're here! Much, much, _much~_ earlier than we expected! But we're so happy to see you!"

And (Travis? Connor?) opens their arm in a hug that Chris hesitates before walking into. The hug is crushingly tight. He couldn't help the small 'oof' as (Travis? Connor?) pulls him tight against his chest.

Chris is still taller by a few inches. He's still feeling the same tickle as ruly, unbrushed hair brush against his nose. He's still smelling the same, generic shampoo Camp provides to all the yearrounders.

But the number of beads pressing against his sternum. The scar he could see at the base of the neck. The strength behind the hug. It's all new.

"We're so happy you're okay again," (Travis? Connor?) says into his neck, earnest and thick. And that's new too.

Chris swallows. His arms remain by his side.

"I'm sorry."

 _I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for betraying you. I'm sorry for destroying for Thalia's Pine. I'm sorry for making camp unsafe. I'm sorry for invading the camp. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for everything._

But the hug only somehow grows tighter and (Travis? Connor?) pats his back.

"It's okay. I don't mind—AH! CALLIE!" And the hug is broken as (Travis? Connor?) shoves him to the side to bound down the porch stairs.

"You were supposed to tell us when Chris was coming!" (Travis? Connor?) scolds.

Chris turns around to see the child who had entered the weaponry walking to the cabin. Callie pulls up short of the stairs, eyes flickering between him, Clarisse, and her counselor. He could see her mutter ' _oh crap'_ and genuine panic framing her features before it all melts away into a very sweet smile. She takes the few steps to stand before them.

"I'm sorry. I got hungry." She waves her bag of Fritos. "Do you want some?"

(Travis? Connor?) shakes his head. "Nice try, but I'm not Connor. You can't bribe me with snacks."

It's so weird. To see Travis lecturing… actually lecturing like a counselor would do. He doesn't want to see anymore and he peeks inside the cabin.

45 eyes stare back at him.

Hermes's cabin has always been crowded, but he figures when he and the others deflected, it would be less crowded.

It's more or less the same amount of people.

Most of them are on the younger side. There are a few older ones, but none he recognized.

Maddy. Celise. Mai. John…

The unclaimed and children of Hermes that didn't join them, they're not here. And he doesn't know if that's good or bad.

One of the older ones scowls, turning a back to him.

That sick feeling in his stomach is back. The voice comes full force. ' _Traitor,'_ it says. ' _Betrayer. Back-stabber. double crosser. sellout.'_

' _Why are you even here?'_

' _They should kick you out.'_

' _You should leave'_

Travis latches onto his forearm, dragging him inside with a crooked grin. "Come on. I'll introduce you to everyone. Clarisse, you're not allowed inside. Not until you apologized to Derek for wrecking his summer project."

"Like hell I — "

The door slams shut and it's just Chris and his 47 cabinmates. The churning in his stomach grows worse.

Behind him, Clarisse bangs on the door and screeches to be let in.

46 demigods stare at him. Some with amicable curiosity. A few with open hostility. More than anything, Chris wants to go back to hiding in the weaponry. He rather be anywhere than here.

The hand on his arm squeezes. "It's going to be okay. Don't be scared," Travis whispers against his ear. When he glances down, there's a fire in his eyes that wasn't there three years ago.

 _I got your back,_ he mouths, letting his arm go to stand slightly in front of him.

"So as you all know, this is Chris. He's a —" _Traitor._ "Son of Hermes. He's actually a really old friend of mine, so everybody please welcome him warmly."

A few people utter hellos. But most stay quiet.

Undeterred, Travis continues, "How about we go around and say our names? I'll start. I'm Travis."

"My name is Veronica," Callie says.

"And I'm Superman!" a boy beside Callie pipes up.

"Captain Marvel!" someone in the back screams.

"Pikachu."

"Sonic."

"Optimus Prime."

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki and I'm going to be the Hokage. Believe it!"

Travis claps his hands. "And that's the end of introductions. Thank you all for cooperating. I'll introduce you guys one by one later. Everybody just go back to setting the party up."

It takes a couple of seconds for the group to stop milling about. They each go to different corners of the cabin. A few linger to give him dirty looks, but they all scurry away when Travis threw confetti in their faces.

"Hao, Cedi, Connie, go back to blowing up the balloons."

They disperse begrudgingly, but not without one giving him a finger.

His heart sinks, but this isn't surprising. They have every right to not like him, to not trust him. After all he did, it's to be expected.

"Sorry about them," Travis chuckles, a hand going to scratch the back of his head, "They're, uh, still feeling the adrenaline from the battle earlier."

"Uh huh."

"Come on. I'll show you to your bed."

Travis turns around and heads for the back of the cabin. And Chris, after a hesitant look back to the door where Clarisse is still screaming, follows without a word.

Maybe it's by coincidence but Travis leads him to his old bunk bed, the bunk bed that's beside the one window that never manages to completely shut. The coldest area of the cabin with the thickest blanket.

Travis slinks onto the bottom mattress and pats next to him, gesturing for Chris to sit too. Travis with his entirely too open smile. Travis with his entirely too relaxed posture. Travis with his lack of acrimony, lack of ill feeling, lack of animosity.

And before he could stop himself, he blurts, "Why don't you hate me?"

Travis blinks owlishly at him, no words were spoken between them for a minute, before a sly smile encroaches his face and he's reminded of their time three years ago. "Should I hate you?"

"Yes, I committed so many… done so many…" _Bad things. Atrocious things. Indefensible things._

"That's all in the past. You're good again, right?"

Chris bites his lips. Good? Him? He was never good to begin with, but he sits down across from his brother. Travis smiles reassuringly and tosses him a jacket. The tag in the back says 'Charles'.

Travis's isn't commenting on how he got the jacket from the most well-defended cabin on camp and Chris isn't about to ask as he shrugs it on.

"So I guess first things first, you know I can tell lies, right?"

Chris nods. He recalls all the late night talks in the cabin trying to figure out the mechanism. Random lying to test its capacity. A little fib here and there. Stretching the truth to see how far it can go. That was all Annabeth did for almost two years until she figured it all out.

"Everything except the absolute truth will trigger it."

He nods again.

Travis sighs and leans back. The smile didn't drop on his face, but there's a glint to his eyes, another side to his face, and Chris would be lying if he said he didn't cower a bit.

"So are you, in any way, shape, or form, still on Luke's side to destroy, maim, and tear down Camp Half Blood and/or Mount Olympus?"

"Um, no."

In a blink of an eye, the menacing aura is gone and it's in place is Travis's usual frivolous attitude. "Alright. We're good. Welcome home, Chris!"

Chris waits for maybe ten more seconds before realizing that's it.

That's all Travis is going to ask.

"Wait… you don't want to ask more? Like Luke's plans or … or … or… Luke's plans?"

But Travis only shrugs. "Nah, Connor and Anniebeth handle that stuff. I just make sure the person is being truthful."

Then his brother leans over and racks on the window with his knuckles. "Which he is so no worries, guys."

Chris leans over too to see what's by the window, but Travis shoves him back hard by the chest. A moment later, the top drawer of the night table exploded with white powder. They sprinkle down in a shower. A speck landed on the back of his hand and it reddens immediately, already puffing up and itching.

Travis lowers the shield he pulled from nowhere and tosses him an unlabeled bottle, eyes apologetic.

"That's the ointment. It should help a bit with the itchiness. Sorry. Connor's still the same. I hope you finally learned some real escaping skills while away because Connor definitely got better at setting up his pranks."

There's a horrible creaking sound and the door to their cabin caves. Clarisse stands on the other side, foot slamming back down to the ground.

"Travis, you ass!" she says as she marches inside.

Travis flinches but didn't back down. And maybe that's the biggest change.

Three years ago, Travis would have backed away. Three years ago, Travis would have done anything to avoid conflict. Three years ago, Travis would have shoved him in between them. Now…

"Clarisse, what the heck man! We have a strict no cursing policy! You're fixing our door or I'm telling Chiron."

 **Author's notes:**

 **Hi! Thank you for reading! And a huge thank you to the people who left me their thoughts! I'm not lying when I say they're huge motivators.**

 **I'm trying to get better at tagging so if there are any squicks you have, please tell me and I'll tag it!**

 **Also, I read the wiki for the Trials of Apollo. Travis is in college and Percy is studying to get into college. Based on my experience, people typically enter college at 18 years old. So Travis should be one year older while Connor is the same age as Percy and co. Am I going to change the ages? Absolutely not, because editing all the chapters is a pain and their ages aren't confirmed. I met 17-year-old freshmen before. I'm just going to edit chapter 6 so Travis is a freshman while Percy is still in High School**


	22. Annabeth - Flaws

**tags: angst because I love angst!**

 **Annabeth — Flaws**

Post last chapter

From the shabby window they crouch beside, Annabeth watches Connor, unabashed and unhidden.

Why should she hide?

He's in the wrong. There's nothing for her to be ashamed of. And maybe Connor knows this too. He doesn't say anything, doesn't question her, doesn't even glance at her.

So she says, "Forgiveness is a virtue."

And Connor replies without hesitating, "That's Travis's thing. Not mine."

She watches him peeks through the window, watches him smirks when Chris walks with Travis to the bed, watches his unchanging expression when Travis declares Chris to be clear, and watches him grin maniacally as the drawer exploded.

"You're too cruel," she says.

And Connor finally looks at her and she could see his sunken eyes, his slightly trembling hands, his barely conceived — she blinks and Connor's back to himself. Together. Assured. Composed.

"This isn't good for you," she says softly before he could say anything.

Connor turns back to the window. "It makes me feel better. Besides they deserved it."

It's true Connor only acts out to those who wronged him, Travis, or his friends.

But it's not healthy.

Seeking vengeance, never letting go, forever bitter…

It reminds her of Luke.

Then Clarisse kicks their door down and Annabeth watches Connor's eyes go from smug happiness to wild panic all in one second. He books it for the front door and Annabeth is left watching his departing back.

"Clarisse, what the heck man! We have a strict no cursing policy! You're fixing our door or I'm telling Chiron."

Travis and Connor.

Lenient and Merciless.

They swing too wildly to the extremes.

But she supposes as long as they have each other, they're balanced.

* * *

 **AN: thanks for reading!**


	23. Lee - Music

Somebody has to be a dork and it's going to be Lee

And I'm back to writing happier times again.

(Lee has this intense, visceral need to share his love for music. Thank god his two new, baby cousins are entirely unaware of that need.)

 **Lee — Music**

Lee (13) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

May 1

Pre the lightning thief

After chapter/work 10 (the pranking one)

Ever since the jumpscare he pulled last month, his life have not known peace. It's just been a constant barrage of pranks. Some admittedly funny and most being very creative that Lee was certain Luke is helping them. (But if Luke was helping then the pranks wouldn't be succeeding so he guess Travis and Connor are just that creative.)

Does he regret pranking them though? Absolutely not. Scaring the duo enough to fall into the lake was _hilarious_ and well worth this month-long, grudge-induced pranking fest.

Sure, they haven't had a real conversion in a month. And sure, Lee has to double check his dinner plate to make sure there's no bugs or snails or slugs. And sure, he needs to be careful when entering his cabin. And sure, he gotta be sure what's coming out of the shower faucet is really water.

But if he looks at the larger picture, which is if he can jump scare someone (and he can), he says it's a pretty good deal.

So when Travis and Connor enter the music room, Lee is on guard with his trusty shield in one hand and the tuba in the other.

On guard for pranks.

Not on guard for questions like "can you teach me how to play that over there?" mumble through gritted teeth.

His heart skips a beat and all too quickly, probably too eagerly, he asks, "What did you say?"

The one who asks him steps back in unease and Lee reprimands himself inside, _reel it back, Lee. Reel it_ all _the way back._

The other brother didn't move an inch and his wide grin didn't dim at all. "Connor asks if you can teach him how to play the lyre."

He heard right. He wasn't hallucinating. They want to learn. They want him to teach them. He's not hallucinating. This is really real.

This is reality.

"You're such a weirdo," Travis says and Lee realizes he's just been staring at them with a big, fat smile on his face.

Whoops.

He shakes his head, sets down his shield and tuba, and picks up the lyre. "I'll be happy to teach you, Connor. Come here. Sit beside me."

At first, Connor didn't move an inch. He still looks wary and Lee wonders if he puts down the shield too soon. Connor may be a kindergartener on the outside but the kid is definitely too sharp minded to be a kindergartener on the inside. Travis, though, definitely looks like a first grader outside and inside as he wanders over to the Guitar Hero drum set with awe.

Nobody can resist Guitar Hero. Which is why he brought it from home to entice Luke and Chris and Annabeth.

Unfortunately, nobody ever enters the music room except him so the drum set never got to work their magic.

Eventually, Connor (very doubtfully) makes his way to him and Lee patiently waits for Connor to crawl on top of the bench. He's so short. It️'s funny watching him try to get on the high bench. He would help, but Connor is a bit taser-happy when anybody bigger than he is tries to touch him.

Which is practically everybody sans Annabeth.

Chiron should really confiscate his taser.

Eventually, Connor manages to get on the bench and he sits as far as he can from him.

Lee plucks the strings and talks about the basics, how to make the sounds, the proper hold, as well as a little bit of history too before passing it to Connor.

Connor thumbs the strings gingerly, unsurely. He looks at him with hesitancy and Lee nods encouragingly (hopefully not maniacally). He's been told he can be a little too eager, too overwhelming when it comes to music (But he thinks they're lying. He's really chill about everything.)

Connor plucks a few strings and they came out beautiful, strong, and Lee can't help but break into a wide smile.

As the inventor of the lyre, some of Hermes' children have a natural affinity to the string instruments. Connor must be one of those kids!

It's settled. He's recruiting Connor to be in the Friday praise band. God knows they need more players.

Connor continues plucking with hesitancy, but the melody feels familiar.

And it hits him that the melody was from the campfire sing-a-long yesterday.

Someone paid attention! Someone actually paid attention! Not even his own brothers and sisters care to listen! They're always too distracted talking and mingling with their friends which he understands completely. But SOMEBODY LISTENS!

"Connor, Lee looks like he's about to die."

The playing stops. Connor leaps off the bench and backpedals to where Travis is, hurt twisting his face.

"What? Why? Does he hate it?"

Connor's voice is high-pitched, strangely on the verge of crying and Lee shakes his head insistently. "No! You did great! Really, really great! Did you have lessons before this? No? Wow, you're a natural!"

There's still doubt in Connor's eyes and Travis did not help _at all_ when he says, "He got tears in his eyes."

"You can cry from happiness," Lee argues.

"Why would you be happy?"

"Because you're such a great player!"

Connor narrows his eyes in distrust and Travis chirps without looking from the drumset, "Why would you be happy?"

"Because your brother is a really great player…? Wait, why are you asking me this a second time?"

"He isn't lying."

Then Connor smiles, an actual genuine smile and Lee has to admit he didn't think Connor had the ability to do that.

He thought Travis leeched all of that in the womb, oh wait… they're not twins… how could he forget that? Annabeth made a big stink over it a couple of months ago.

Travis skips to him and tugs on his shirt. "Lee, I want you to play me a song."

"You don't want to learn how to play it yourself?"

He shakes his head, his brown curls whipping back and forth.

"No, I don't wanna. It seems like a lot of work. I just like watching."

"Are you sure? It's really fun."

"I'm sure. Play something happy!"

But Lee smiles all the brighter despite the rejection. "Well, my offer will stand till the end of time. I can teach you guys any instrument you want. Private tutors are expensive but my services are free of charge."

Connor and Travis roll their eyes, but who cares.

Music is his everything. And he loves teaching others to appreciate it the same way he does.

 **Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I can't believe I'm keeping to my schedule. This is amazing. I want to see how long I can keep this up.**


	24. Lee - Education

**Lee — Education**

Lee 16 - Luke 17 - Travis 10 - Connor 9

November

Lee isn't a year rounder per se. He lives only 15 minutes from camp with his mom in a simple two bedroom apartment. During the school year, he attends a public high school a few blocks from his apartment complex.

His mom is the choir director, the marching band director, the jazz director, and the wind ensemble director in his high school while also running an after-school club, "Battle of the Books".

His mom is a very, very busy person.

She's rarely home. She's never home actually. Lee is positive she is living on school grounds. But according to the bread crumbs he finds sometimes on the floor of their kitchen, she's still living in the apartment.

So he just never sees her.

He has free reign at all times. He can go wherever he wants, do whatever he wants, can join whatever grabs his interest, can laze around at home all day if he wants.

Monday nights are dedicated to marching band and only band as he goes over all the formations.

Tuesday nights he spends at Camp Half Blood.

Wednesday nights he's with his mortal friends either at their house or a cafe somewhere after more marching band practice.

Thursday nights, after dinner with the Yews, he's back at Camp Half Blood.

And Friday nights after the football games, he goes to Camp Half Blood.

The weekends, it depends if he has to volunteer with Leo Club or Key club. But if he doesn't then it's at Camp Half Blood pestering Luke and Annabeth to join him for Friday's praise band.

Back in middle school before he had responsibilities, he would bike to Camp after classes and hang out until curfew. Then he would ride his bike back home. Chiron would insist on him calling his mom to pick him up but she's busy with her life. And then when Chiron insisted on giving him a drachma to take the grey sister taxi, he refused. Camp really doesn't have money to spare.

Joining marching band when he entered high school did not make things easier.

But now that he has a car, everything! Is so! Much! Better!

No more horrible bike rides! No more fear of hitting a pothole! No more fear of flying to the other dimension and bruising every part of his body when hitting said pothole! No more crazy, full-power pedaling on Friday nights to make it on time to sing-a-longs with only five minutes to spare!

He shifts the car to park and turns off the ignition. The high beams from the headlights shine on the tree trunks and create this weird, horror-esque mood. Like any second, a monster or a possessed human will pop out from behind the trees. So he switches the headlights off too.

Lee stares at the night sky from the driver's window. It's tranquil. The star's silent twinkling. The crickets' slow chirping. The leaves' gentle swaying. His trumpet is sitting in the back seat and the temptation to whip it out and play something is so hard to ignore.

But it's already 7 pm.

And if he wants to get his homework done on time and still make a new song for Friday night, he better get to it.

So he snatches his flashlight, his backpack, and the tote bag on the passenger seat, locks the car, and heads for Half Blood Hill.

It's dark outside.

No normal person would be waiting in the dark without a flashlight or a lamp or a light source of any kind, but Luke isn't normal.

The one to always greet him first, the one to always send him off, the one to always complain about his flitting back and forth from school to camp then to home and back to school again.

"Lee, I see you're back again."

Luke leans against Thalia's Pine with crossed arms, the moon the only thing illuminating his bandaged face.

Lee hesitates.

Luke always does this. He always waits for him up at the hill but recently, and really, since Luke got back from the Golden Apple quest, he's been… awfully moody. Even the littlest thing seems to tick him off. It kind of scares him sometimes.

But this is Luke he's talking about. Luke will never willingly hurt them. So Lee bounds up with a smile and slings an arm over Luke's shoulder.

"Luke. Good to see you, man. The wound is healing nicely, I see."

Luke touches his bandage and raises an eyebrow. "Public school taught you x-ray vision?"

"Nope," he says, "I wish though. It would be a lot more fun than history. Dad just gifted me with some of his medic magic."

Luke scowls and mentally Lee screams at his unfiltered mouth. He keeps forgetting not everybody is okay with their godly parent like he is. Thankfully, the scowl didn't last long and Luke's eyes his tote back with apprehension.

"Did you bring more—"

"I brought more books!" Lee cuts in with a wide smile.

"You don't have to do this, you know. Chiron teaches us just fine without you bringing us textbooks." Luke rests his hands on his hips and there's exasperation written all over his face but Lee shakes his head.

"I don't mind," he says and starts sorting through the books in the bag. A lot of it are workbooks his friends gave him. Most are for elementary kids since those are the cheapest and the ones his friends were willing to give up, but there are a couple for Luke. Where are they… where are they…

"Here! These SAT and ACT books are for you. Some of the seniors in band don't need them anymore and they all love me so it was pretty easy to convince them I need it. Be grateful. They all think I'm a nerd for studying so early."

Luke takes the books from him with hesitancy. He thumbs through the pages, face unreadable. Which is not a good sign.

"Lee," Luke says and now that's really not a good sign, "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not going to college."

"What? Why?"

"I don't see the point of it." And Luke holds the book out for him to take back. Lee didn't move to take it.

"But didn't you say you want to be a social worker? You need an undergrad degree for that."

"I changed my mind."

"So what do you want to be now?"

Luke didn't answer him. And Lee didn't push.

Instead, he bites his lips and put the books back in the bag.

"I guess Annabeth and Connor can use it when they're older."

Luke's head lowers. His eyes narrow. There's a dark scowl and maybe it's the exhaustion from practice earlier wrapping what he feels, what he sees, but he swears there's another person in between them. Someone a lot larger than either of them. It drapes over the both of them.

It's harder to breathe.

It's harder to see.

It's cold.

He's back in his quiet, empty apartment with no one around but him. And no matter how loud he plays his stereos, it can't drown out the immense loneliness he feels.

"What makes you think they'll live old enough to use it?"

Lee recoils.

And Luke flinches, his scowl disappearing into guilt.

"Look, I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. Let's go find the others."

Luke turns his back to him and heads towards the Big House.

He can breathe again.

More than anything now, Lee wants to say something. Anything. 'You're scaring me, Luke.' 'Are you okay, Luke.' 'What's going on? Is there anything I can help you with.'

But he can't. He can't ask any of that. He can't make himself ask anything.

Luke sidesteps all of the sudden.

Lee flinches, bracing himself for reasons he doesn't know. A body collides with his, a head slamming into his chest with enough force to bruise.

"AH, sorry Lee!"

Luke smiles a little. Sadistic, little meanie.

"Annabeth is still trying to find Connor's special powers. She thinks it has to do with stamina. They're racing right now and I'm supposed to wait at the finish line!"

"In the dark?" Lee wheezes.

Travis waves his flashlight with the most measly light ever to have ever existed.

"Do you want my flashlight? You can probably see better." Lee grimaces and rubs his poor abdomen. Yup, it's definitely going to bruise.

Travis shakes his head. "I know every branch on camp. I can make my way around blindfolded. I guarantee it."

Lee guesses being contained here 24/7 does that to you.

"I gotta go. I can hear them coming. They don't know I'm racing too and I want to win. Catch you later!" Then Travis takes off in the dark, his orange shirt engulfed by the darkness.

No sooner Connor and Annabeth are beside them, gasping for air, really wheezing for air. In fact, they look like they are seconds away from collapsing. In fact, they actually collapse.

"I don't," Connor pants, gulping air down desperately, "Have. Super. Stamina."

Annabeth elbows him in the ribs. "Yeah. I can. See that."

Maybe right now isn't the best time but Lee never really can control his mouth. With a proud whoop, he pulls the books Connor requested. Out of the ten or so yearrounders here, Connor and Annabeth are the only ones to ask him to check out books from the library. He isn't sure if they're actually eager to learn or just in a competition to outread each other.

Either way, they're learning and that's great!

But before he could pass it to Connor, Luke snatches it from his hands and tuck it beneath his armpits.

"Stop feeding Connor's quest to make our lives a living hell," Luke says.

Connor pulls himself to his feet. "I don't do that! Don't believe him, Lee," he argues, still panting from exertion. He darts for the book but Luke's faster.

And taller.

Really, all Luke needs to do is use one hand to raise the book over his head, use the other hand to hold back Connor and Connor's powerless.

Connor struggles valiantly for a good minute before realizing that he can't outpower Luke. So he inhales sharply and let out a high-pitched wail and gods, why won't he join their Friday praise band? He got the lungs. He got the skills. All he needs is the courage to perform. It's not like anybody is looking at them. Everybody is too busy talking.

Connor let out another wail and they all wince, Annabeth going to cover her ears.

But Luke is still not giving in.

Good thing Lee is equally as tall.

(And that scary aura is gone. It's just Luke. It's only Luke. And Luke will never willingly hurt them)

With deft fingers, Lee snatches the book from behind.

Luke whirls towards him, frowning. "Hey!"

"Come on, Luke. Connor's 9. How is he going to make your life hell through," He glances down at the book and raises an eyebrow, "The 'Art of Origami'. You guys. Come on. It's _origami._ "

Now Annabeth is back on her feet and she's siding up with Luke, glaring at Connor. "You're not here all the time. You don't _understand_ , Lee. Connor is a menace—"

"You're a menace too, _Anniebeth_."

"The book you got him last week, 'Cool Chemistry Experiments to Try at Home,' already is making us suffer. Connor knows how to make _smoke_ _bombs_ now, Lee. He's almost done learning how to make a stink bomb and pretty soon he'll make a _real_ bomb. If we die, it's your fault."

"She's exaggerating. Don't believe her, Lee," Connor defends.

Very subtly (not-so-subtly) Luke shakes his head and mouths 'believe her'.

"Well…" Lee falters, thinking it over before handing the book to Connor, much to his cousin's great delight and his other two cousins' extreme horror. "I'm happy he's so passionate about learning."

"If you make a spider, I'll punch you really hard," Annabeth threatens but Connor only laughs and when Annabeth threatens to do more, Connor laughs harder.

"Lee," Luke moans, waving a hand towards the bickering duo, "Do you see this? This is my life everyday. I deal with this everyday. Every. Single. Fuc—f-freaking. Day."

His words are said in despair, but his eyes, his mouth, his posture, that fond look, that little smile, it all says otherwise.

(He hates that he has to check. He shouldn't have to. It should have been obvious.)

"Tell you what," Lee says, smiling to follow the ruse, "How about we go for a joyride to lighten your oh so incredible burden? I'll let you drive if you want."

Immediately the bickering stops and two bodies are standing at his feet with the most damndest puppy eyes ever.

"We want to go," Annabeth demands, crossing her arms and straightening her back.

Connor follows with a, "Let us go too."

Lee shakes his head. "Nope. Not this time. It'll be just me and Luke."

Connor's puppy eyes grew wider and it's coupled with him tugging on his shirt.

"Please, Lee? We're so bored here," Connor pleads, the only one out of the two of them with no qualms about begging.

"Nope. Go back to your competi—"

"Please?" Connor begs, this time with tears in his eyes. "It's so boring here. There's nothing to do."

God damn it. This is so unfair. He knows Connor's faking it.

Luke is laughing behind his hand. Annabeth's eyes twinkle. On the Big House's porch he can see Chiron, face illuminated by the lamp outside, smiling at their situation.

Lee has no illusions about his willpower which is astonishingly nonexistent. He went vegetarian cause a friend asked him too. He's in about 7 different clubs cause his friends wanted moral support. He has dinner with the Yews because Ms. Yew asked him to join. He goes out of his way towards the public library because Connor and Annabeth wanted certain books the camp library doesn't have.

Easily persuaded. A people pleaser. That's what everybody says about him.

So he grabs Luke's arm and runs for the hills.

Thank gods for marching band for keeping him fit and genetics for making him tall. He gotta use his height while he still can before all the younger ones grow up to his height.

"Hey!"

"Wait!"

They didn't wait.

And when he and Luke is in the car, he laughs as Annabeth and Connor pouts at Half Blood Hill, he laughs as his audio system comes alive and Luke's groaning ("what the fuck are you listening to?" "A masterpiece, Luke, a masterpiece you uncultured swine."), he laughs as he drives down the gravel road leading out of camp to the outside world.

He thinks he's really content.

Life can't become better than this.

* * *

That is until a voice pipes up from the back.

"Where are we going?"

" _Hooooo_ my god."

He slams on the brakes.

There shouldn't be a voice back there.

There shouldn't be any noises _at all_ save from them two.

Lee turns around and looks behind to find Travis looking entirely unguilty and Beckendorf and Chris looking very, very guilty.

"What are you doing here! How did you even get in?! I locked the door!"

"I unlocked it," Travis says while Chris and Beckendorf mumble apologies.

"And I didn't teach him that. He's just that gifted," Luke says with pride, a smug smile on his face. He doesn't look broken up over the fact that there are 5 of them and they're probably acting as a huge magnet for monsters. ("Don't worry, Lee. I got us covered if monsters attack," Luke assures him).

And Chiron. Oh gods, Chiron is going to be pissed. Chiron is going to be so fucking _pissed_. Shit!

To take this many campers out, he needs to sign a paper, get some monster repellant, make sure each camper has a weapon and shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He's going to be lectured.

He's so screwed.

He's not content.

His life is over.

Goodbye, world.

* * *

" _You're too much of a good boy, Lee. Live a little."_

* * *

 **Author's Notes: I always thought about how Annabeth and the others get their education since they live year round. I'm sure Chiron teaches them. And then some of the older kids could possibly donate their old school workbooks.**

 **Huge thank you to everyone for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts, good or bad! Next chapter will be either Lee again (ugh, it's at 5k and still not finished) or Kronos depending on which one is finished.**

 **To guest: I still use Tumblr religiously lol but I just train myself to not care about the discourse and what people are accusing me of. If you want to know my Tumblr account, I don't mind telling you! (just make sure you're logged in. I can't PM a guest.) It's part fandom, part general stuff, part prompts, and part discourse.**


	25. Malcolm - Gameplay

**Malcolm — Gameplay**

Travis (14) - Connor (13) - Malcolm (13)

August

Post 'The Sea of Monsters'

Curse Hermes for being so fast.

And curse him for having such fast children.

And curse him for giving birth to Luke and pushing them all into a state of war and—

Sorry, he's joking. He loves Hermes and all the messenger god has provided for the world.

But really.

Curse him for having such ridiculously fast children.

It's unfair to him and everyone.

Egyptian War is typically dominated by the fastest players but it shouldn't have been dominated like this.

He and Annabeth couldn't even get _one_ slap in. Their only method of attaining cards have been the face cards and the blessings of the gods for returning them number cards.

In a matter of minutes, he was out. And Annabeth was out too a few seconds later. Travis and Connor continue playing like they were never in the game. Their eyes are trained on the game, cards flipping down faster than Malcolm can read and hands slapping on the rug carpet confidently.

Annabeth hasn't given up. She stares at the center intently, fingers twitching, but she's always a second too late. But he has given up. There's no way for him to get back in the game and he tucks his chin over his knees, watching the cards fly back and forth. The deck of cards in the brother's hands only growing and shrinking slightly.

It's interesting.

There's little tics about their playing that's just a little bit different.

Travis is undoubtedly faster, but he makes a lot more mistakes.

And while Connor is slower… a lot slower, he uncannily seems to know when the face cards will come in. It's like he's almost memori—

Slap. And then a slight snicker.

Travis smirks, pulling the center pile to his deck. "Too slow, Anniebeth."

Annabeth growls and chews on her cheeks as her 23rd attempt to slap in is thwarted by Travis.

"I'm going to win," she declares confidently despite having no cards in her hands.

Connor rolls his eyes. "I'm sure you will."

"I definitely will."

"Uh huh."

"I will," she says with finality. She side eyes him and Malcolm did not like that gleam he sees in her eyes. "Malcolm, help me win. Give me your cards when you tap in. You're faster than I am."

"I… uh… don't think we can win like that," Malcolm admits but Annabeth wasn't paying attention. There's fire burning in her gray eyes and Malcolm can see all she's thinking about is winning. He doesn't have a choice, does he? He sighs in defeat and unfolds his legs, scooting closer to the center.

Connor smiles lopsidedly. "So we're going to do a 2v2? Me and Travis versus you two? Alright! Losers do winner's chores until next summer. Go big or go home."

Oh.

It's going to be them versus Travis and Connor. Now they really can't win. But Annabeth sits all the straighter, eyes brightening from the challenge.

"We can win," she says assuredly and Malcolm wishes some of that boundless confidence can seep over to him.

"We can do it," she says again.

"Believe in yourself."

.

He did believe in himself.

.

And they still lost.

* * *

 **(I love slice of life though I am pretty sure it bores most people. It's great to me, because they're just little kids who got thrust into a war when they were just teenagers and I want them to be happy.**

 **Me back when I wrote Chapter 1 : I can remember the dates of the books and how old the characters are in each book. No worries. I can do it.**

 **Me now: what?**

 **Now for me keeping track of the years, each chapter is going to state which book it is after/before/during)**


	26. Lee - Temper

**Angst. Canon Character Death**

 **Headcanons. Headcanons** as **far as the eye can seeeeee. Sorry. This chapter is 11k words long. I too feel this chapter is too long but I cut chapters by what I feel is natural rather than word count.**

Lee — Temper

Lee (18) - Travis (13) - Connor (12)

 _ **Post The Lightning Thief**_

— **August—**

Lee drums his pencils on the pingpong table in the conference room. He doesn't quite understand why they're here or what the big emergency is or even why Travis and Connor are sitting with them and not Luke, but Lee is not a questioner. And a non-questioner do not question.

"Hey," Lee starts with an easy grin and all six pairs of eyes turn to him, "You guys up for some foosball while we wait for Chiron?"

"You're on," Rowling says with his wild grin. "Loser owes winner a popsicle."

Lillith snorts. "You're way over your head. Lee can beat you one handed."

Karen chimes, "He can do it blindfolded."

Mikaela raises her shoulders. "He can do it without even touching the handles."

"Woah now guys let's not make me out to be some kind of demon. I'm just an average player with average skills." But his words fall on deaf ears as his fellow head-counselors continue to play him up to be some sort of foosball god / champion / elite.

"He doesn't even have to be in the same room as you."

"And he doesn't have to be awake either!" a kid's voice says from the end of the table and Lee nearly forgot about the two little children they have with them.

"What are you guys doing here?" Rowling grunts. "You're from Hermes cabin, right? Go fetch Luke. Chiron called for an emergency meeting."

Travis shrugs. "Chiron said to go to the Big House and wait with everyone else."

"Chiron also said you have to give me Cheez-Its," Connor mumbles around a mouthful of crackers.

"Don't lie to us," Lee teases, "Chiron didn't say that."

Rowling throws a key onto the table. "You guys go get it yourself from the camp store. Get me some rice krispie while you're at it."

"We can get in without the key," they announce proudly.

"Should you _really_ be announcing this to us?" Karen sweat drops. "We are obligated to tell Chiron these sort of things."

Travis shrugs again. "Luke knew and never tattled on us."

"Go ahead and tell him. I want a new lock to break," says Connor with this twinkle in his eyes.

"Who cares about that? Go get me some rice krispie and make sure you get five of them."

"Aww, Rowling, that's so nice of you to share."

"What? No, they're all for me. Get your own."

"Travis, Connor, get ten and give none to Ro."

"You asshole! I asked them first! Do what I say. Not Lillith."

Lee grins and leans back in his chair. His friends continue to bicker, insults and taunts flying back and forth relentlessly, but it's said in good fun. It's been this way since they all come to their counselor seat. It's always been said in good fun.

It all ended here

A burst of light. There was everything. Then nothing. The world comes back as a canvas of gray. Rain pour outside. Snow hails. The wind screams. And at the end of the table, the spot where Chiron sits, is Luke.

He's not wearing his camp shirt but outside clothes. There's a haunting smile on his scarred face. A bitter smile. A frightening smile.

Beside Lee, Karen chokes out, "L-Luke?"

It's like the spell broke then. Rowling and Mikaela both reach for their sword. Lillith jumps out of her seat. Karen latches onto his arm, nails digging into his biceps, and Rosette remains still, body tensed in fear? Shock? Or maybe she's asleep. Lee can never tell with the way her bangs cover her eyes.

Lee's eyes goes to the other side, where Travis and Connor are supposed to be but they're gone. It's just them six in the conference room.

"Calm down," Luke drawls as he leans back in his chair and put both of his feet on top of the table. "It's just me."

But the aura surrounding him, the aura that makes it hard to breathe, that curls his stomach and presses down on him like an overbearing hand, tells him this isn't Luke.

"Luke, what is that?" Mikaela asks with a hard face, "What are you holding?"

"This?" And Lee Luke casually twirls his weapon in the air. Half the blade glows the godly glow of celestial gold but the other half… the other half is plain metal.

A weapon capable of both hurting monsters and humans.

His throat clenches. Why does he have that? What is he going to do with that?

"Luke, answer the damn—" Rowling starts, but Luke laughs.

He laughs in a way he never did before. Free. Uncontained. Happy.

And the overwhelming force becomes stronger until it feels like something is going to break.

 _Luke…_

"The world is crumbling, you guys. And you're untethered," Luke says with a manic grin. The scar on his face twists because of it. His blue irises changes to gold. "Chiron is going to tell you what's going to happen. I'll give you an ultimatum. Join me and live to create a new world. Or stay with the gods and die."

"Luke, what are you—"

"I'll talk to you all later. Ciao."

The pressure lifts and color floods back into the room. Travis and Connor are by his side and shake his shoulder with wide eyes.

"Lee? Are you okay? You all just stopped talking and stared into space for a whole minute."

"I—"

 _I…_ What is he supposed to say? Your counselor went crazy? Your brother is now a psychopath? The person who brought you a life is now going to destroy it? He didn't have to say any of that, Thank Gods, because Chiron rolls into the conference room with a grim expression.

"Sorry for the delay. I know your parents are waiting for you. Let's get started shall we?"

In five short minutes, Chiron fills them in on what's happening. Luke is evil. He poisoned Percy. He's working with Kronos. He's going to tear Olympus down. He's crazy. He's dangerous. He's gone off the deep end.

And when it is all said and done, Chiron raises an eyebrow at all of them. "You're all taking this quite well. I thought there would be more—"

"What the HELL!" Rowling yells, slamming his fist down on the table.

Chiron leans back in his wheelchair. "There it is."

"What the FUCK! What the CRAP!"

"Watch your mouth, Rowling," Lillith snaps, her green eyes wandering over to Travis and Connor. She turns to Chiron and in her always remarkably calm voice, she asks, "What now? What's going to happen?"

Chiron sighs and strokes his beard. "Probably a war. I can't imagine Luke backing down."

"War?!" Karen shrieks, her nails _really_ digging into his arm. "Who's going to fight in this war?!"

"Who the fuck do you think, moron?" Rowling yells. "US! We'll be the one fighting!"

"Let's all calm down," Chiron says, trying to bring back control but once Karen starts literally nothing short of a natural disaster can stop her.

"Us? _Us?!_ Why us? Can't Mom fight for us? This is a titan we're talking about! We can't win against a titan! I can barely win tug of war against my poodle and she's just a wee little puppy!"

"The gods don't give a flying fuck about us, Karen. They're not going to do anything just like they always do. Dumb, lazy pieces of sh—"

"Rowling, I'm going to ask you to please refrain from insulting the gods as such," Chiron says with a strained voice. "I'll be here to guide you all. Do not fret. It'll be alright, Karen."

But Karen just begins sobbing into his shirt and Lee rubs her back, repeating Chiron's words.

Coughing once, Chiron nods his head towards the brothers. "With Luke's departure, Travis will become the new cabin counselor and if he so wishes, Connor can be a counselor as well."

He waits for Chiron to yell out "joking!" Or "sike!" Or "got you all! April fools!" Because call it compassion. Call it sympathy. Call it common sense even. But Travis cannot lead the biggest cabin on camp when he's just a kid himself.

"What about Dominic? He should be the next oldest," Lee asks.

Chiron shakes his head. "Dominic is with Luke."

"Holden then? Millie? Chevette? Aeron?" Lee continues.

"All gone."

"Chris too?" a small voice says, voice cracking at the end, and Lee looks at them. They're so small. So young. They're scared. They're frightened. But their chins are held high and their faces determined. Until one of them sneezes and rubs his nose with the back of his wrist and Lee is reminded he's looking at a couple of middle schoolers.

"Yes, Chris too," Chiron answers.

"Who's left then?" Travis asks.

"I'm not sure. You will see next summer who came back."

Lee shares a look with the other counselors and it's like the same brain wave pulse through all their minds. Forcing a smile, Lee turns to their two newest counselors.

"I don't think everybody knows everybody here so how about we all go around and say our name, what cabin we run, and what our favorite instrument is? Just to break the ice? I'll start. I'm Lee. I'm 18 years old. I run the Apollo cabin and I love all instruments."

For maybe five seconds nobody follow him and Lee is ready to very subtly call out Rowling to continue when Rowling groans, head falling back onto his chair.

"Name's Rowling. 17. Ares. And I like ping pong."

"That's not an instrument, Rowling," Lee says.

"I'm Lillith. I'm 18. I run the Demeter Cabin and my favorite instrument is the piano."

Karen is doing her best to stifle her sobs and she succeeds somewhat. "Im Karen. I'm 19 years old. What's the other things? I am the counselor for Aphrodite cabin and I like the (sniffle) the (sniffle) somebody give me a tissue please."

And as Rosette pass the Kleenex box down the table, she says, "Rosette. 18. Hephaestus. Clarinet."

And last, "My name is Mikaela. 16. I'm Annabeth's counselor and I hate music."

* * *

When everybody starts to file out to call it a night, Chiron holds him back. Lillith and Karen looks back in concern before Lee waves that it's okay and they left.

"What's up, Chiron?"

There's an unnaturally pained look on Chiron's face. "I know you are very involved in your school as a section leader for your marching band, the president of Leo Club, and the vice president of Key Club. All very admirable and I'm positive you worked incredibly hard to achieve. I… it pains me to ask you this but," And Chiron grimaces, "But, could you come to camp earlier than you usually do? Luke's actions are very concerning and I would like to find him as soon as possible and stop whatever he is planning."

"Sure."

"I know I'm asking a lot, especially when you are applying to college this year but — pardon, did you say yes?"

Lee leans back on the table and nods. "Yeah, I don't mind cutting back on my extracurriculars. They're not that important in the grand scheme of things."

Chiron sighs, shoulders sagging. "Thank you, Lee. You are very kind."

* * *

That night, Luke visits him in his dreams.

When Lee collapses onto his bed, falling asleep in seconds, he wakes up in an endless prairie, the brown fields going as far as he can see. No green. No flowers. Everything is brown and dead. The sun has set, the sky a vivid purple.

And right in front of him, several feet away, is Luke with his back turned.

"Luke?" Lee says hesitantly.

Luke didn't turn around. "Happy birthday. Against all odds, you somehow made it to the big nine oh."

"Luke… I… is it true? Are you really with Kronos?"

"Yeah." And Luke turns around, eyes their usual blue. Lee lets go of the breathe he didn't know he was holding. "I need you to join me actually. I could use a person like you around. You're great with people."

"Luke, I, what are you doing? Do you know what kind of game you're playing? Do you know who Kronos _is?_ "

Luke's mouth turns up into a sneer. "Of course I do. But are the gods any different from the titans? They both treat their children like shit."

Lee swallows and forces the lump growing in his throat to go away. This is Luke he's talking with. Luke would never willingly hurt them. Luke is reasonable. Luke is smart. He'll see what he's doing is crazy and comes to his senses. And this can be all just one big joke they will laugh at years down the road.

"The gods are bad parents, yeah, but they never tried to eat us like Kronos did with his children. We should—"

There's a yellow tinge at the inners of his iris as he barks, "We should what? Apollo knocked your mom up and left her to raise you alone. She didn't even want you, don't even want anything to do with you. Your dad knows this and he did nothing. You're not upset? You're not angry?"

"Don't put words in my mouth."

"All these years you been at camp, seeing all those unclaimed didn't make you feel anything?" Luke snarls.

"No, I just don't think —"

"So what do you think should be done?"

"We should talk with our parents. We should—"

"So nothing. You want to do nothing. Talking does nothing. Words mean nothing."

The more they talk, the brighter Luke's eyes glow until the blue is all gone and all that is left is that iridescent yellow. Lee has to keep reminding himself that this is Luke and not a stranger, that Luke cares for the camp and his cabin and Annabeth, that Luke cares for Annabeth.

"Luke… if you continue this, your brothers are going to fight in a war. Annabeth is going to fight in a war. What if they get hurt? What if they die, Luke?"

A moment pause. A silver of blue pushing back the yellow. But his face hardens. His jaw tightens. The yellow overtakes the blue completely and his head raises. "I don't care."

"If you're not going to help me, then I'm done talking with you. Goodbye, Lee."

— **September—**

"Lee, dude, buddy, pal, why did you quit Marching Band? You were going to be Section Leader! And why did you step down from Key Club and Leo Club? These would have boosted your college application. Are you stupid?!"

Lee rolls his eyes and slams his locker shut, turning the dial on the lock. "It's not the end of the world if I don't get into college, guys. Stop acting like it is. I'm not quitting everything to laze around. Something came up at home that I need to devote my time to. And besides your personal statements and grades matter too, not just your extracurricular."

His friends immediately drop the anger for concern which is very nice and it truly means a lot and he can see their hurt when he refuses their offer to help.

Demigod problems should stay demigod problems.

When he makes his way up Half Blood Hill, there's no one waiting for him. The camp is wonderfully empty as it should be during the year. At the Big House's porch sits Chiron in his wheelchair. He waves when Lee comes bounding down the hill and up the porch.

Lee smiles and tosses his backpack aside. "So how should we screw with Luke's plans?"

 **—** **October** **—**

Lee is special in the sense that he has none of that demigod reeking scent. He can use phones and computers and the TV as much as he likes with no consequences whatsoever.

Chiron said something like this is rare.

Something he inherited from his mom must have made him monster-proof.

So when he sees a monster, he knows another demigod is nearby.

It's how he figured out Michael is a demigod.

And it's how he finds Will.

The only way into Gildroy High School, when the gates are not open during dropoff and pickup hours, is through the front office. Lee doesn't know if it was fate that made Mrs. Mackeroy sick and get a substitute teacher or if it was just a coincidence, but Lee is so, so, so glad that whatever the powers may be above made it happen.

Lee is taking the attendance sheet to the attendance office, right beside the front office, when the doors to the outside slams open. He waits for Lora the receptionist to chide the newcomer about their fragile doors, but it never comes. Instead all he hears is a child's voice on the verge of tears.

"H-Help! Help me, please!"

Lee glances up. The kid is all scuffed up. There's dirt marks all over his shirt and Lee can see bloody welts from scraps on his knees and elbows. He's wearing the Hodgkins elementary school uniform. That's only 15 minutes away from here and they shouldn't be out yet.

"Please help me," the kid says but Lora still hasn't said anything and Lee steps toward them with caution. Lora would never be indifferent to a person in need. Something's wrong.

"Hey! A-are you listening?! There's a monster! A-A-A really big, scary monster is chasing me! I-It hurt my mom! Please help her!"

Lee's eyes trail outside where the kid came from and sure enough, there's a man in a trenchcoat walking towards them. Probably a cyclops.

Lee glances back at Lora with her glazed over eyes.

Definitely a cyclops that can manipulate the mist.

It seems to be just one cyclops. He can deal with just one. Lee ducks behind a printer, hidden from view.

"Help me please!"

The door opens.

The child shrieks.

Lee counts the steps the man takes inside. One. Two. Three. The door closes. And Lee leaps from the wall and tosses his darts with celestial gold crusted at the tip at the monster.

It didn't even had time to widen it's eye in surprise before poofing into dust.

"What? Huh?"

Lee walks to the flabbergasted child clinging to counter. With a careful smile he hope is non-threateningly, Lee says, "Hey, you ok— oof!"

The kid wails again and slams into his stomach, hands clutching his shirt. In between the sobbing and wailing he could hear the kid saying, "You saved me! You saved me! Are you an angel? Thank you for saving me."

Lee looks over the kid once. He doesn't appear to be hurt too badly, but it can't hurt to ask. "Are you hurt?"

The child shakes his head.

"What's your name?"

The kid sniffles, wiping his snot on his shirt. Lee takes the kleenex from the front desk to pass to the kid.

"Will."

"Hey, Will. My name is Lee. It's going to be okay. Where's your mom? I'll go check on her."

Lee tries to pry the Will's hands off him but it just made him clings all the tighter.

"It's going to be dangerous. I don't want you to be in danger," Lee tries reasoning. Cyclops sometimes travel in groups. There might be more nearby and he doesn't want to be in position where both Will and Will's mom is in danger and he can only save one. He just _knows_ that's how this will end up.

But when Will mutters, "Please don't leave me." Lee stops and gives in rather easily. Holding Will's hand in his and retrieving his darts and taking the first aid kit just in case, Will leads him to his mother.

She is dead of course, her head bashed in with a blunt object. At least it was a quick death. He kills the two cyclops standing over her body and checks her pulse, shaking his head. Will cries and hide his face into his shoulder.

Lee isn't disillusioned.

He knows how lucky he is being monster proof.

He's so blessed with what he has.

He can live a normal life if he wants.

But Annabeth. Percy. Travis and Connor. Clarisse. None of them can.

And now this child clinging to him too.

Will doesn't have any relatives who'll take him in. His mother is all he has. The foster system is a thought but considering the average family don't know the existence of demigods plus the added mess the foster system is… And in his own apartment, there's already a demigod living in the complex and Michael attracts plenty of monsters on his own. There's nowhere for him to go except for camp.

"Hey Will, do you want to go to a camp? It's for special people like you and me."

"Is it safe?"

Lee falters. Safe? No, not when Thalia's Pine is slowly dying from whatever is poisoning her. Monsters are seeping through the weakening barrier. It's not safe there like it used to be.

And Will feels his hesitancy and hugs him tighter.

"Will you be there?"

Now that that he can answer with certainty.

"Definitely."

— **November—**

Lee kinda expected it to happen any day now.

The barrier is weakening. A lot of monsters are passing through. The harpies and Argus can't handle them all. One of these days there's going to be a big monster they can't handle.

And he's right.

The middle of the night, Lee got a call from Chiron.

"Come to camp."

When he got there, half of the cabins are up in flames. The yearrounders are gathered outside a safe distance from the flames. Travis fills him in.

Apparently, a chimera invaded from the top. The harpies didn't detect it until it was right above the cabins. By the time Clarisse and Connor took the chimera out, it lit half the cabins on fire.

Only Poseidon, Zeus, Hera, and Artemis's cabins remain.

Chiron ensures them any belongings lost in the fire can be recovered (thank god, his poor instruments) but it's going to probably take a day or two and apparently, using the other cabins is 'disrespectful'.

So this is how Lee finds himself in this situation. Six demigods in his backseat as he heads back home to his apartment.

Lee has a very strong belief.

Demigod problems should stay demigod problems.

His teachers don't know he's half-god. His classmates don't know he's half-god. His clubmates don't know he's half-god. His friends don't know he's half-god.

His mom doesn't know he's half-god. His mom doesn't know who their dad is. His mom doesn't know where he has been going all these years after school. His mom doesn't know he's fighting in a war. His mom knows absolutely nothing because she's never in his life to begin with.

And when he left at two this morning to go to Camp, there still wasn't any sign of her. It's four A.M. now. She shouldn't be out but he still knocks on their 3rd story apartment door and announces quietly, "Hey, it's me."

A chair screeches beyond the door.

Ah.

She is home.

(Home? Can she really call this apartment she's always hiding in a home?)

Lee waits until the scrambling is gone before unlocking the door and gesturing them in.

"Come on in, guys. Welcome to my apartment."

Silena and Will are the first to go in with awe on their faces. Clarisse, Beckendorf, and Travis follow close behind. Only Connor lingers. His hand tugs on his shirt bottom and there's a frown on his face.

"Why did you knock?"

 _Because my mom doesn't want to see me._

Lee shakes his head and ushers him inside.

Their apartment is a standard two-bedroom, two-bathroom lease. The dining room and living room are grouped into one with the kitchen being the size of a janitor's closet. It's not much but it's enough for the both of them.

"Make yourself at home as I monster-proof, okay?" Lee says, mixing one part vinegar and one part lemon juice and one part water in a spray bottle. This concoction will help keep the demigod scent hidden from monsters and they all know not to touch the phones. He sprays the door cracks, the window sills, all along the walls, in his room too where they'll mostly be staying, everywhere until the stench permeates their living space.

Hopefully, that'll keep them safe. If not, well, Clarisse and Connor can kick ass pretty well.

He finds the six of them rummaging through the cabinets. Silena, Will, and Beckendorf pull away in guilt when they see him enter, but the other three continue shifting through with excitement.

"Dude! Ramen!"

"He has Hot Cheetos!"

"I want to do the spicy ramen challenge!"

"Are you guys hungry? I can make you something. I am a _great_ cook," Lee says.

Immediately, Travis in the cupboards snorts. "That means he can't cook, Will."

Will, bless his kind heart, gives him a bright smile. "I think Lee is a great cook."

"Then you'll be the first to eat his cooking. We'll see how much you think Lee is a great cook," Clarisse sneers.

"You guys are so mean. I open up my home to you and you all just insult me," Lee jokes, but Silena didn't seem to catch it, volunteering to eat his food first.

Travis isn't lying when he says he can't cook. He really can't. The most he can do is make ramen. Last time he tried was last month when he had the other counselors over and he tried to make some paninis. You know, like a good host should. They all ended up burning. Rowling laughed at him. Karen offered some kind words. Mikaela utterly showed him up by cooking a five-star meal. Rosette was missing per usual. And Lillith thankfully was too busy tending to the garden outside to notice.

All in all very embarrassing.

He's not about to go through the same embarrassment with these middle schoolers. Nobody can screw up making Top Ramen. He plugs the electric kettle in and as he waits for it to heat the water up, he checks the fridge. No milk. No orange juice. Half a dozen of eggs. An onion. One apple. Definitely not enough to feed 7 people.

"Do you guys want anything for breakfast tomorrow?" Lee says, closing the fridge.

"Pizza."

"Steak."

"Muffins!"

"Cookies and brownies!"

Lee takes it all into consideration and tosses it all into the mental trash. "I can only get bacon, eggs, and cereal. What kind of cereal—"

"Lucky Charms."

"Cheerios!"

"Reese's Pieces."

He takes out his phone, scrolling down his messages from friends to his mom. He texts a carton of eggs, the wanted cereal brands, two gallons of milk and two 16-ounce slices of bacon before topping it all off with a 'thanks!' and hits send. A second later, there's a little read checkmark.

"Your mom is awake. Why are you doing this?" Connor says, frowning and sitting backward on the dining room chair as he opens a bag of Fritos.

Lee bites his cheeks.

 _Because my mom doesn't want to see me._

"It's always been this way. This is how we communicate. She gets me everything I want. That's how I got a car," Lee says, unwrapping the packages. Silena and Will help too.

Travis chokes on the granola bar he's eating. "S— _(cough)_ —she got you a car cause you ask?!"

"Yup!" Lee smiles as he recalls the memory. He texted it as a joke because his friends prompted him too. Just to see how far he can go. The next morning, there's a Prius sitting in the parking lot. He didn't go any further than that.

"I got my permit when I was 15 and a half. Chiron was my supervising adult. Six months later I tested for my license."

"Your mom couldn't do it for you?" Connor mumbles through the mouthful of Fritos.

 _My mom doesn't want to see me._

"My mom is a very busy person." Lee pours the hot water into the seven open ramen cups, leaving a fork over the top of each one. Every so often, he gets this reaction. 'Your mom doesn't do this for you?' 'Your mom isn't here for this award ceremony?' 'Your mom is absent for your birthday?' and like always, he just goes back to the faulty reasoning he always gives. "She runs the choir along with a large chunk of band stuff. Not to mention that she's very active in the community. She volunteers at the animal shelter and goes to help with the senior center. I admire her. She's so giving. I want to be like her one day."

"But… she's your mom," Will says with the saddest eyes ever.

And maybe for the first time ever, he admits, "She doesn't want to see me."

"Why?"

Lee shrugs and lies between his teeth. "Who knows. Eat up. I have _so_ many cool things to show you in my room."

— **December—**

"Look, guys, I think we're looking too far. Luke is poisoning the tree. And no matter how much Lillith heals it, it's poisoned even more the next day. He's obviously nearby. Maybe there's a hidden area somewhere in Camp."

"I don't think so. Mr. D would have said something by now."

"Mr. D hates our fucking guts. I'm sure he would love to see us dead."

"Rowling, don't say that. Mr. D loves us. Somewhere deep in his heart, he truly cares for us. ... I think… maybe… He kinda remembers our names at least!"

"Karen, your fucking optimism is going to get us all killed."

"Hey now, let's not get so riled up."

If there's one thing Lee thinks is messing them up as counselors, it's their teamwork. They all are decent fighters. And in groups of two or three, most of them get along extremely well. But all together… Rowling's passion, Karen's kindheartedness, Lillith's stubbornness, Rosette's passivity, and Mikaela's strong-will all clashes against each other.

Rowling's intense dislike of the gods stirs up Karen who tries to see the good in the Gods. Rowling gets riled up and that makes Karen teary-eyed and Lillith shouts back in Karen's defense. It doesn't help when Mikaela starts backing up Rowling about the Gods' negligence. It becomes a 2v1 yelling match and Lillith is not a person to back down.

When it gets to that point, nothing can cool Mikaela and Rowling down except for Chiron.

Fortunately, it rarely gets to that point.

"Lee's right. Everybody, be quiet," Mikaela says, her drumming fingers giving away the fuming anger beneath her calm facade. "We're not going to get anywhere by shouting."

The door to the conference room opens and Lillith enters, gnawing on an ambrosia brownie.

"I got rid of the poison," Lillith says, "But it's getting more potent. Pretty soon, I'm going to be the only one capable of fixing it and I'm going on vacation with my parents next month. If Luke continues this, the tree is going to die."

"All the more reason to find Luke," Mikaela states as Lillith finds her seat in the big room.

"What are we talking about?"

"Where Luke is."

"I think he's somewhere outside of Camp. Maybe in the town Lee lives in," Karen offers but Rowling shakes his head.

"He's poisoning the tree daily. He needs to be nearby."

"Lee's town is pretty nearby."

"Pretty sure someone would notice a car coming and going daily. He got to be on Camp somewhere. I say we burn down the forest, make that weasel come running out."

"The nymphs would kill you," Lillith points out.

Mikaela bites her lips. "Not necessarily."

"What do you mean? The nymphs practically are the forest. They live in the trees. You burn those and—"

"No, not that. What Rowling said. Luke doesn't need to be nearby as long as he has somebody on the inside."

An uncomfortable silence falls over them, broken only by campers outside playing volleyball. Somebody on the inside. Somebody here since the beginning of October when the poisoning started. Somebody… Lee shakes his head, ridding of the image that pops up. It's not them.

"So you're trying to say we have a spy," Lillith says.

Mikaela nods. "They have to be close to Luke. Somebody with great acting abilities. Fast. Sneaky. A good liar. Basically the opposite of Will."

"We shouldn't rule anybody out," Lillith warns, "Luke could have talked with him during that month he left and when Lee found Will. Sure, Will is terrible at lying, and he snitches on everything, and he can't for the life of him not tell the truth, but he could... you know what? I changed my mind. I don't think Will is the spy."

"I had some in mind." And when Mikaela says that, her eyes flashes to him for a second before going back to the group. "I think it's Travis and Connor."

Lee's mouth opens, but Rowling beats him to it, mumbling, "They did knew Luke for some time."

"And they're fast, at least, one of them is," Mikaela follows.

"And they're the sons of Hermes too," Lillith mutters, "I think it's kinda suspicious all of Hermes' kids left but they stayed."

"Shouldn't that be a testimony to their loyalty?" Karen argues, "They fact they stayed got to mean something."

"I think it's more suspicious than anything," Lillith says, leaning back in the chair and tugging her gardener's hat over her face.

"Rose, what do you think?" Mikaela asks.

Lee nearly forgotten about the sixth member of their team. She never talks unless prompted. Not that it mattered.

"I don't know," Rose mutters apathetically.

"Do you have any idea who the spy might be? Or where Luke is?"

"I don't know."

Lee can see Mikaela resists sighing and rubbing her nose in irritation. Instead she turns her eyes to him. "Lee, what do you think? You knew almost all the yearrounders since their first days. What are their motives?"

"I think we shouldn't rule anybody out." Lee says, still pushing his doubts to the bottom of the barrel. "We all thought Luke was good too and look at what he's doing."

— **January—**

"Definitely not. Travis and Connor would never betray us like this," Annabeth says.

"Why do you think that?" Lee asks curiously.

It's been almost a few days since Annabeth came back from her home. Apparently, she needs a break from them. A little monster appears and her whole family went ballistic. Annabeth says she handles it no problem (which Lee believes 100%. Annabeth is the most capable demigod he ever met), but her dad and step mom still went over the moon.

"Travis loves his dad too much to follow Luke and Connor hates playing pretend. They're not spies." Annabeth continues, swinging her legs over the top bunk.

Lee sighs in relief. Annabeth knows them best. If she says they're good then they're good. It doesn't matter if he and the others have doubts.

"What about the others?" Annabeth asks with narrowed eyes.

"Who?"

"Mikaela and the rest. What are their reasons for staying?"

Mikaela and Rose… he doesn't know. But Karen's dad is still in love with Aphrodite and her going against the goddess would break his heart. Rowling's reasons are purely for spite, that his son beat a Titan his father himself couldn't. And Lillith actually has a good relationship with her mom. But he can't exactly say any of that. His friends told him in confidence and he can't break their trust.

"Um, before I answer that," he says, eyes darting around the cabin to finally rest on his saviors, "Why are Travis and Connor taking a nap in the middle of the day? They never done that before."

Annabeth looks away suspiciously.

"I don't know."

— **February—**

"Lee."

Lee twirls around in the swirly chair, pen between his teeth, and sees one of the Stolls by the door of the music room.

"Wassup?" He narrows his eyes. "Traaa...?"

Connor shakes his head. "Connor."

"Wassup, Connor? What can I do for you?"

Connor stares at the computer behind him and Lee fills in unprompted. "It's my Economics homework. I missed class and had to make up the assignment."

"Because you were out on a quest with Rowling and Lillith?"

"Righty-o."

"So you're busy."

"Nope! I was going to take a break and get something to eat. What's up?"

Connor lowers his head, hands fidgeting behind his back. Now that's concerning. Lee puts the pen down.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Katie was upset today," Connor mutters.

Upset? With the way Hermes Cabin was swathed in thick vines, it seems more like Katie had a meltdown. Even Lillith was impressed. The hours Lee spent pruning the vines off the cabin was awful. Absolutely terrible.

"Yeah. She was. Wasn't she?"

Connor bites his lower lip. "Whenever Will is crying, you always know what to say. How do you do that?"

How? Man, he was just winging it back then and praying he didn't do anything wrong. And it just so happens Will responds best to hugs and Lee always has hugs to give out.

He's positive Connor forgot about it now, but back when he was 13 and Connor's 6, he tried to give Connor a hug too and instead got a taser to the ribs. He got a great lesson that day. Never assume everybody is okay with hugs.

Learning how to comfort someone is all about experience and trial and error.

"Whenever Travis is crying, what do you do to comfort him?" Lee asks

Immediately Connor scowls. "I leave him alone. Travis doesn't cry when people are around."

"Oh." Lee hesitates. "Well… most people like physical contact. Wrapping an arm around the shoulder. Rubbing or patting the back. Letting them sob all over your neck or shoulder if they want. You want to show sympathy. You should tell them what they're feeling is valid, that they're not wrong for feeling the way they do."

Connor bites his lips. "But at the moment, I forget all that."

"And that's what practice is all about. Here, pretend I am a new camper and I miss home a lot because my mom would—I don't know—sing to me every night. What would you say to me?"

Connor bunches the bottom of his camp shirt in his hands. "I don't know. You're valid?"

Lee stifles his laugh. "Okay, nice first attempt. Let's say the person is like Will. Very touchy touchy, knows no personal space, cannot even fathom why a person wants a bubble. You would..."

"Hug… him?"

"Yes! Just open your arms and if the person wants a hug, they'll see it as a hug. But let's say I'm someone like Clarisse. Tough, prideful, will dropkick you if caught crying. What would you do?"

In the end, Lee didn't get much homework done but it is worth it to see Connor be just a teeny bit more comfortable with people.

Summer is going to be a bitch when all the campers come back.

— **March—**

He shouldn't have helped Connor last month with his lack of comforting abilities. He shouldn't have saved Travis from chore duty yesterday. He shouldn't have ever became their friend six years ago. Maybe then he wouldn't be in this situation he's in now.

"Come on, Lee. You're overreacting," Connor snorts.

"Yeah, Lee, it's not the end of the world," Travis follows.

Lee tightens his hands on the steering wheel. "I am getting real tired of finding surprises in my car."

Travis leans forward from the back, resting his cheek on passenger seat's shoulder. "You like it."

"What I like," Lee takes his keys out of the ignition and looks behind him in exasperation. Travis and Connor sits on either ends, twin smiles on their twin faces. "Is to see only my trumpet and _invited_ guests in the backseat."

"You like it," Connor repeats smugly.

Lee rolls his eyes. He steps out of the car, the brothers following suit. The stand at his tail end as he locks the car and doubly make sure no one else is in the backseat. Poor Beckendorf and Chr— poor Beckendorf would often be looped into their crazy schemes.

"Beckendorf isn't with us this time. He wanted to hang out with Silena," Travis kindly fills him in.

"So what are we going to do here?" Connor asks.

"I'm having dinner with the Yews. I have never been late before and I'm not starting now otherwise I would take you both back right now. Then later I'm meeting a couple friends. We have a project for history and I can't bail on them."

"I can't believe you're so diligent about your school work."

"Well…" Lee wonders if he should tell them. No, maybe another day. "Having ADHD and dyslexia is a bit—problem. It's a problem, but my friends have been really supportive and my teachers really understanding."

Connor snickers and whispers (not really) to Travis, "He was about to say bitch."

Lee rolls his eyes and heads into the apartment complex. The Yews live a floor above his. Many times a night, he would hear the toddler twins screaming and running across the apartment with probably Michael chasing after them. Many times a night, he would babysit all five Yew children and sit through a long marathon of Pixar films. Many times a night, he would see a monster lingering outside the apartment, deal with it, and then wonder when he should take Michael to camp.

Mrs. Yew should officially be termed his legal mother. She often take him out to go to discovery parks with her own children. She would celebrate his birthday. She would buy him presents. She would accompany him on school award ceremonies. She would come watch his middle school and high school band performances.

It's hard to believe a woman so supportive of her children would be best friends with his mother who's support rivals that of his father.

But who Michael's mom chooses to associate herself with is none of his business.

"No talking about demigod stuff while we're eating," Lee says as he climbs the stairs with the brothers in tow. "No talking about camp. No talking about your abilities. No talking about your life. Just nothing about your demigod heritage and it'll all be good."

"Wow, Lee, it sounds like you're living a double life with all these rules," Travis comments.

Connor deepens his voice. "Lee Fletcher. Normal High School student at day, but modern day Superman after school."

Travis laughs and Lee groans, wishing more than ever now that Annabeth is back already from her parent's house. She would have kept them from sneaking on board his car or at least keep them both in check.

"Guys, I know you probably think this is a great opportunity to make fun of me, but you're going to meet Michael and I know it's going to be _very_ obvious but please don't say anything about him being a—"

"I'm a what?"

" _Oh my god._ " Lee spins around and unfortunately finds the one person he didn't want to overhear their conversation. Michael stands at the top of the stairs and is wearing that god awful Christmas t-shirt with the elves they all got two years ago as matching outfits. He remembered lamenting about that in the Hermes cabin and it seems Connor remembers too as he snickers behind him.

"Michael! Buddy! What are you doing outside by yourself?"

"I'm taking out the recycling." And he holds up the blue canister in one hand. Michael points at the brothers' shirt and asks, "What's Camp Half Blood?"

Crap. Travis and Connor's shirts. He forgot to switch them out. "Um, it's a— they're, um—"

"It's a summer camp," Travis answers for them. A safe, unassuming answer. Nice going. Except Travis didn't end it there like he should have and kept talking and Lee wants to scream. "And an orphanage."

"It's an orphanage?" Michael asks, eyebrows raised. "And you guys are… orphans there or just campers?"

"We're kinda bo—mphhffff!"

Connor jumps in, clamping a hand over Travis's mouth. "What my brother is trying to say is that Camp Half Blood is a summer camp with an option for full time residency."

A second ticks by and Michael's pensive expression remains unchanged. "Right… Hey, Lee, who are they?"

"They're my cousins."

Michael frowns. "Your mom is an only child."

"On my dad's side," Lee adds.

And Michael frowns even more. "Your dad is back in your life?"

Connor oh so unhelpfully adds, "Our fathers are both part of the 'make them, dump them' club. That's how we found each other."

Michael's eyes flit between him and the Stolls with unease. His grip on the canister tightens. "Lee, are you in trouble right now? Are they holding you hostage"

"What? No! Why would you say that?"

And because Michael is brutally honest, doesn't know when to not be so honest, is absolutely uncaring about _anybody's_ feelings, he says the worst thing he could ever say in this situation. "Because they look kinda iffy and not people you should trust."

It's like watching a switch being flicked on. Connor's smile drops. His head raised. His fists clench. His shoulders stiffen and there's this cold, calculating look in Connor's blue eyes.

Too late.

Lee couldn't intervene on time.

"Hey, Lee, who is this toddler? They shouldn't be wandering around by themselves. Somebody might kidnap them."

It's amazing how Connor pinpoints one of Michael's peeves just like that. He wonders if it was by chance or if Connor can actually sense Michael's insecurity.

"Toddler?! I'm 13!"

"No, no, you're _way_ too short. You can't be older than 5 at most."

"Five!? That's it. You and me. Wrestling match right here. I'll kick your ass."

"Guys, come on. Don't do this…"

But Michael already tosses the bin aside and is taking off his jacket too.

Michael is a black belt in karate. He has been taking martial arts since he was six and if it wasn't for the fact that Connor been doing judo for just as long and is actually the only one crazy enough to practice with Annabeth daily, Lee would be seriously concerned.

This isn't the foot he wanted to start of with. Michael already has zero friends at school and Travis and Connor are going to be his counselors. They _need_ to get along.

"Guys, stop it."

They didn't listen. Michael never listens to anybody. Connor, though, sometimes listens. And if he won't listen to him, then Lee will just get the next best thing.

"Travis, can you—"

But Travis is gone.

He isn't beside them. He isn't behind them. He isn't anywhere and Lee is really to have a full blown panic attack but from down the block, he sees Travis running towards them. In his hand is his celestial tinted army knife. Travis smiles goofily at him as he approaches, tucking the weapon away in his pocket.

"Sorry, I saw a 'dog' and I had to go pet them," Travis says with air quotes around dog, but Lee gets the message. It wasn't a dog. "So what are we— Connor, stop picking fights with kids half your age. It's unfair to them."

"I'm going to kick both of your asses!"

— **April—**

Lee remembered the day when Luke picked up Travis and Connor. He remembered Luke for some reason needing to change into a new pair of pants. He remembered twin stares of distrust. He remembers one catching him staring too long and in an attempt of what was probably intimidation, made a taser go off.

He wonders what Luke felt that moment, when he found the brothers and talked with them about Camp Half Blood.

Because Lee himself is scared shitless.

And it doesn't help that this demigod he's facing is a thousand times more gifted in their godly powers then he is.

Seriously, like, the girl standing before him is a second Katie Gardner.

Except she has more control.

And she can make weapons.

And she isn't afraid of using them.

And she isn't shy of bashing his head in either.

All in all, this bamboo-sword wielding demigod terrifies him and he wishes Katie warned him her sister is a lot more violent than she is.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

She smacks her bamboo sword against the asphalt and it _cracks_. Oh god she cracked the _asphalt_.

"Answer me or I'll send your head flying."

And she demonstrated this by tossing a pebble and hitting it to the next century.

Lee always does what people ask him of, but this is the first time he truly, truly regretted taking a request.

' _My sister ran away.' 'Please find her.' 'She's probably terrified.' 'She's only twelve! Please find her, Lee!'_

 _Man, Katie, you just screw me over big time._

Lee puts up his hands, palms out, and does his best to appear as non threatening as possible. "Hey, there."

"I really will send your head flying," she threatens one more time.

Lee swallows. "And I totally believe you. No doubts here. I'm here because your sister asks me to be. Katie is your sister, right? You're Miranda?"

Miranda bites her cheek. "Kate send you?"

He nods and Miranda slowly lowers her weapon.

"She wanted me to ask you if you wanted a place to stay at Camp Half Blood. Everything's free for the year rounders. There's just some side chores to do."

Miranda eyes him carefully. Measurefully. Calculating. And when she finally speaks, she sounds like the unsure girl Katie makes her out to be. "So… you're not with Aeron?"

Lee's blood runs cold. Aeron was one of the demigods who left with Luke. How does she know about Aeron?

Miranda continues, "Aeron said he's recruiting for people like me. That we're special and that we'll make the world a better place. You're not with him, are you?"

Luke's recruiting demigods? Wait, does that mean those dozen or so demigods the satyrs found last month could be spies? None of them were claimed so are they? Could they? Would the gods even tell them if they were?

"Hey."

His feet is slip out from beneath him and he lands on his back. The tip of the bamboo sword press against his chest and Miranda smiles above him, a devil's smile if Lee might say.

"You're not with Aeron. Aeron trains his people to fight."

— **May—**

Karen died. A freak accident, her co-workers in the daycare said. The cameras just stopped working the minute when she was attacked. They guess a dog or a bear mauled her to death. But they all knew better. It wasn't a dog. It wasn't a bear.

Her funeral notice came in the mail a week before the event. Lee debates about going. Her lineage is kept hidden from everybody except her father. He's going to be a stranger in what will probably be a mass of Karen's family and friends of California. Only her Dad knows why she would have friends in New York. They burned her shroud here. Does he really need to go to the other side of the country?

But Silena's crying tells him she wants to go and the day he was suppose to go to his senior field trip, he attended a funeral.

With Annabeth and Clarisse as Silena's moral support and him as the supervisor, they take the pegasi to California.

It is as big as he imagined.

He wasn't really surprised. Karen was a people person. Someone to be trusted. The one to be counted on. Too optimistic. Too friendly.

"A tragedy."

"She's so young."

"My condolences to her parents."

"It's awful, isn't it?" Mikaela says. Jesus Christ. Lee nearly jumps out of his skin but he keeps his cool. As far as he knows, only they're supposed to be here. None of the other counselors said they'll be attending.

"Yeah, it is. She died too young," Lee manages to say.

But Mikaela shakes her head.

"Look around you. Look at the people. Do you see Aphrodite? Do you see a grieving mother? Do you think she even knows one of her daughters passed away?

Lee glances at Annabeth and the others. Silena weeps silently into her hands and Clarisse is rubbing her back, but Lee can see all three are listening. "Mikaela, don't start this in front of the others."

But Mikaela keeps going, eyes forward at the podium. "Who do you think paid for this service? Do you think Aphrodite even gave a cent?"

"Mikaela." Lee says curtly. "Stop it."

But she keeps going. "You know, I think it's pretty strange. Karen was never a big monster attractor and yet, one found her. It's like someone purposefully sent a monster after her so a new counselor will take her place. We all know she likes to hand out her info in case her siblings want to visit her in California."

And Silena cries harder.

Lee shoves Mikaela lightly in the shoulder. "Stop it. This isn't the time to be saying this."

Mikaela turns to face him with her stoic face. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I thought when the war started and I picked the gods' side, my mom would pay more attention to me. It makes sense. This whole thing started because the gods didn't care about us. I thought they would change. I thought they would be more engaging. I thought they would be more supportive. I thought they would care."

"But none of that happen. Everything stayed the same. We're still neglected. We're just pawns to them. Not their children. Not their blood. Just toys. Malcolm is my half brother. I can feel it in my guts. But its been months and Athena still haven't claimed him. Amazing, isn't it? They expected us to fight for them. They expected us to die for them. They expected us to honor them and yet, they treat us like this. Can't come to our birthdays. Can't come to our graduations. Can't come to our funerals. Can't come to anything it seems."

"I tried for so long to get my mother's attention. I aced all my exams. I won the robotics championship two times. I started a new club for community service and made it number 1. But I wasn't her favorite. Nothing I could have done would get her attention. I realize that now. I hope you realize that too, Annabeth. Our mother doesn't love us. And no matter what you do for her, it won't be enough. You can give everything to her, but once you fulfill your purpose she'll drop you like a rag. You always talk about going on adventures and proving yourself to our mom. Well, here's one more chance. I quit being a counselor. You can have that role."

Annabeth takes a moment to speak, mouth opening and closing before settling into a frown. "If you join Luke, the world will end. Everybody is going to die."

And Mikaela smiles, ruffling her half-sister's hair. "Who says I'm joining Luke? I'm just going to focus on my school-life. If Athena wants me back, then she needs to change. Until then I'm not doing anything for her ever again. Lee, you should think about leaving too. I heard you got into the top music university in the country. Julliard, right? Your life is starting and if you stay with the gods, you'll end up like Karen."

He'll end up like Karen. Dead. He can't deny it's a high possibility. The missions been getting crazier. Sometimes he can barely keep up. The chances of him dying is so high, he can't see the top. If he leaves now, he can fulfill his longtime dream of becoming a teacher, but then Will will take his place. An 11 year old. Maybe even younger. He doesn't think the gods would care how young their children are if they could walk and wield a sword.

"I can't."

Mikaela's voice becomes laced with pity. "I see… I'm sorry. Goodbye. It's been fun."

He never saw Mikaela again after that day.

A few days later, Rowling and Lillith died the same way Karen did. And with that, start the search for the Golden Fleece to fix the barrier.

— **June—**

Lee hates lying. Hates hates _hates_ it with a burning passion. 'Science camp'. 'Safe'. 'Supervised.' Sprouting these lies straight to Mrs. Yew's unassuming face burns a patch in the trust she has in him spanning 19 years. But it's necessary. He had to get Michael to Camp Half Blood, get him a celestial weapon, and then maybe send him back once he gets enough fighting experience to survive on his own.

"So let me get this straight. Your dad is the god Apollo."

"That's right."

"And all these greek monsters are real."

"Absolutely."

"And I'm also a child of a god."

"Yup."

"And I'm going to this 'summer camp' to learn how to fend for myself from these monsters."

"That's it."

Michael throws his head back and laughs. "That's hilariously dumb, Lee. And hilariously unbelievable. I'm not that gullible."

Lee stays silent as he pulls up into the parkway of Camp Half Blood. He can see Wilbur is here. Celeste too. Katie Gardner is pulling up the driveway with her family as well. He wonders how many of his half-siblings he will see in camp. He wonders how many were scared off by the deteriorating barrier or how many were recruited by Luke or how many died to monsters.

He steps out of the car and slings Michael's and his duffel bags over his shoulder

"Come on, Michael. I'll introduce you to everyone."

They climb up Half Blood Hill and heads for the cabins, Michael progressively becoming quieter when he sees Clover growing flowers in his palms, when he sees Vinny levitates three books, when he sees Carla talking with the trees, when he sees satyrs trotting through camp.

Lee leads them to Hermes's cabin and knocks twice.

But instead of Connor answering, it's Miranda swinging the door wide, wide open and giving them a wide wide grin. "Lee! Welcome back! Oh? Who's this little fella?"

Lee could practically feel the snap as Michael grits his teeth. Oof. Not already off to a good start. He jumps in the conversation, hoping to defuse the situation before it gets too bad.

"H-Hey! Miranda! This is Michael. He's new to camp and unclaimed."

Miranda either just doesn't sense Michael's ill will or just loves inciting more animosity, but she claps her hands over his and shakes them once. "Welcome to Hermes Cabin! I'm unclaimed too. You're so young. We don't get many third graders here."

"I'm going to be a 9th grader!"

"Oh? You're older than me? Wow, I wouldn't have guessed!"

"So, uh, Michael we'll just drop off your stuff and then I'll give you a tour," Lee interjects, sliding into the cabin but Miranda bars his entry and shakes her head. Her smile drops.

"I'll show him around. You have a counselor meeting to go to."

"Right now?"

Miranda nods. "They think they might have found the fleece."

It's weird.

For so long, it's just been him and Luke and Karen, Rowling, Lillith, Rosette, and Mikaela. And when Luke left, Travis and Connor replaced him. Then Karen died and Silena replaced her. Mikaela left. Lillith And Rowling died. Annabeth, Veronica, and Clarisse took their place. Then Veronica died too, Katie taking the role from her. Rosette left unannounced and Beckendorf is the counselor now.

In just one month, all the seniors are gone.

Stepping into the meeting room and just seeing all their young faces, he can't help but feel like he's stepping into a middle school class.

Annabeth is missing which is strange because she is always punctual. Connor and Travis are in a game of Poker with Beckendorf. Silena and Clarisse are chatting side by side. Katie isn't here yet.

He sits down beside Beckendorf and takes a quick peek over at his cards. They're not great. Seems like Beckendorf is in some hot water.

"I win this and we have full access to your tool station for the summer." Connor smirks, Travis high-fiving him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Beckendorf grumbles and admits defeat, laying his cards down and sighing. "Don't break anything."

"Woohoo!"

Katie comes running in, panting. "Sorry, I'm late. Randi just told me we're having a meeting."

"You're all good. Annabeth isn't back yet from picking up Percy," Beckendorf says, digging through his backpack and handing a key into Connor's awaiting palm.

Travis kicks back in his chair, grin lopsided. "Kit Kat Katie! You're back and you get to spend a _whole_ summer with us!"

For a second, Lee thought Katie was going to close the door and head back to Texas, her hand on the knob tightens. But Katie only scowls and walks in to take the seat beside Silena. "I'm warning you guys now. I practice back home and my control is 10 times better than it was in March. Mess with me and you'll pay."

Then she leans back in her chair and it farts. Cheeks flaring with red, Katie rips the whoopie cushion off her seat and hurls it at the laughing duo.

The ground rumbles. Katie leaps on top the table. Clarisse eggs Katie on. Silena screams for everyone to stop. Beckendorf is getting a Polaroid out. Connor and Travis are still laughing.

And he thinks that the gods are really gonna let these freshmen fight their battles for them.

— **July—**

The fleece was found. The tree was healed. Thalia was ejected from the tree. Crisis averted. Hallelujah. Happy ending, right? Except Lee can't get over the fact that the gods _approved_ three 13 year olds to go to one of _the_ most dangerous places for a demigod.

It's unbelievable.

It's outrageous.

But there's nothing he can do. There's nothing he can do to change this. Percy and Annabeth are _meant_ to be on all these quests. They're _meant_ to suffer and _meant_ to hurt. All for their sake. If they run away, then they're all gonna die from Kronos. There's no way out for them. This is just the way the world is.

"Lee?"

He spins around on the stool. Travis and Connor stand by the door leading to the music room. He spins back and rests his fingers on the piano. "Hey, guys. Do you need something?"

Travis walks into the room with Connor following behind him until they're behind Lee.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You only play the piano when you're upset at something."

"Do I now?"

"Yeah, you do."

Lee plays something he once heard from a movie. Probably Transformers. Definitely from a Michael Bay movie.

"So… are you okay?" Travis or Connor presses.

Lee sighs, spinning around in his chair and resting his chin on the back.

He looks at the brothers. They look nothing like Luke. They don't share the same face. They don't share the same hair color. Maybe the same eye color, but Luke's is brighter and resembles the sky while theirs is an ocean-like blue. They're nothing alike. But Luke did rescue them when they were seven. Luke did treat them like his younger brothers. Luke did do everything he can for them.

He thinks back to last year, when Luke appeared telepathically in all the counselors' mind save for these two. He thinks back to December, when Mikaela raises accusations. To May, when Mikaela theorized Luke killing Karen so Silena can take her place and he hates himself for asking this but

"Why didn't you join Luke?"

Connor scowls. "Better question is why didn't you, you douchebag?"

Lee is taken aback at the abrasive tone, but Travis explains, "We were listening in on what you guys said last December."

He pales. Last December, when they were trying to guess who the spies were. But where—

"You guys never invited us to your meetings even though we're counselors too. So we hid in the vents a lot to listen in," Travis says.

"So why didn't you join Luke?" Connor snaps, "You known him longer than us."

"You don't like your dad. I don't even think you like your mom. Why are you still here?" Travis follows.

"That's a fair question, I guess." And he spins back around so he wouldn't see their twin faces filled with hurt.

"See, my mom and I have a strained relationship. She wanted nothing to do with me. I don't even know how she looks like. I entered up for kindergarten a year late because she didn't do it. Mrs. Yew did it for her. She left me alone in the apartment and I was free to go anywhere I want and do whatever I want.

I thought maybe she worked late to support us since she's a single mother and all. I used to stay up all night waiting for her to get home. She must have cameras installed because she never came in when I was awake.

So I thought if I can't catch her at home, then I'll catch her at work. She works at the high school 2 blocks from my middle school and I know on Mondays after school she instructs the Marching Band. So one Monday afternoon after school I got on my bike and skedaddled to the high school. I could see the band on the field marching and the drum major on their stage waving the baton. I got closer. Near the trees, under the shade, I saw two women. Mrs. Yew and someone I didn't recognize. She had long black hair, but other than that, I couldn't make out much. So I got closer. And closer. And closer. Until I could hear them talking.

"You should really talk with your son," Mrs. Yew said, "Lee is nothing like Apollo."

And when I was about to say something probably cheesy, my mother said she can't stand the sight of me. She said I look too much like my father. She said my mere existence reminds her everyday of her mistake 14 years ago. She said if her family wouldn't disown her for doing it, she would have aborted me from the get go. Or at least put me up for adoption.

I was heartbroken. I did nothing wrong. I couldn't understand why my mother, a person who was supposed to love me unconditionally would treat me like this. I turned around and got on my bike and pedaled as fast and as far as I can go. My tear-blinded biking led me to Camp Half Blood where I got claimed almost immediately, met Chiron, met Annabeth, and met Luke.

I got great friends who I could relate to on parental issues. I got a father figure in Chiron. I got you guys, the yearrounders, to hang out with all the time. I was still happy even though my mom wanted nothing to do with me and my dad never talked with me after I was claimed.

I went back to the apartment because being a yearrounder costs the camp money and I didn't _really_ need to be an yearrounder.

I stayed with the Camp for Chiron. I consider him my dad and if only Luke wasn't going to hurt Chiron too in his plan to tear down the Olympians, I would have let him do whatever he wants."

— **August** —

"Last chance you guys before I leave. I can teach you _any_ instrument. Clarinet. Flute. Trumpet. Triangle. Piano. Pick one, any one."

"Oh my god, Lee. Give it up. It's been months and, for some of us, years," Annabeth groans.

But Connor, bless his little inquisitive heart, raises his hand. "How well do you know the kalimba?"

"Everything! I actually have one under my bed. Let me go get—"

Annabeth grabs him by the wrist and halts his advance. "Lee, your college orientation is in two hours. It takes one hour to drive there and you have to consider traffic, parking, your bad sense of direction, and finding your dorm. Do you want to be late?"

"She has a point," Will says, backstabbing him in the back. "You're bad at directions. You can't cook. You hate being alone. How are you going to survive by yourself in college?"

"Ouch, Will, that really hurts."

Will shrugs. "It's the truth."

"Julliard is in Manhattan, right? I can come visit whenever you're free," Percy says and Lee beams.

"Percy, you are a saint and such a great per—"

"Kissing up to seaweed brain won't make him take your music lessons, Lee," Annabeth says, rolling her eyes.

And while he's defending himself, that he's not kissing up to Percy, that he's just being honest, that he has no ulterior motive, Silena asks, "What are you studying?"

"Music."

Travis tilts his head. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to become a music teacher at a public school, either middle school or high school. Gotta snare them into music before the art people get to them, you know?"

Connor smiles and before he could say it, Lee is already thinking back to the first time he taught someone.

"I can see it, but you should really tone down the enthusiasm. It scares people sometimes."

* * *

The months passed and became a year. He ended his first quarter of college. He and Katie and Silena went on their first mission together. Annabeth was kidnapped. A rescue part was sent for Artemis. Annabeth and Percy held the world. Thalia became a hunter. He started his winter quarter. Michael got claimed. Malcolm too. He started his spring quarter. He ended his spring quarter. Chris was found. They discovered the labyrinth. Percy and Annabeth went down there. The first major battle is happening.

The end of his first year, the day after he got the confirmation for his music internship, a month before his 20th birthday, a giant whacked him from behind the head with a club and he died.

As his soul and the rest of the deceased are gathered by Hermes, he can see Mr. D clutching a boy, his son, Castor, in his arms. Hermes catches his staring and maybe it's because Apollo and Hermes has always been close, but the Messenger God mutters, "Apollo is busy right now, but he'll say his thank you in Elysium."

Somehow even the God of Liars couldn't make his lie convincing.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! I have been staring at this document for months now. Like, 3 months at least and I can no longer stare at it._

 _As always, reviews are very appreciated, but not required. No worries if you're too shy or tired. God knows how long it takes for me to reply._

 _ALSO: DO YOU ALL WANT PERCY AND LEO FRIENDSHIP? LEO AND STOLL BROTHERS? LEO AND PIPER? THEN READ THIS AMAZING FIC BY LOAF-OF-TOAST. It's called_ _Bronze Mirrors_ _and I think it might be ao3 exclusive. It's about how if the 2nd titan war never happen and Leo and Piper went to camp like normal demigods._


	27. Luke — Birthday

Fluff! Lots of fluff! Fluff is good. Fluff. Is… hard to write. It's a lot harder than angst in my opinion. Is it too cheesy? Is it too corny? Is it too much? When should I stop?

Tags: fluff, first birthday, slice of life, slice of cake, one bad word

* * *

 **Luke** — **Birthday** **Cake**

Luke (14) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)

May 20th

Pre-The Lightning Thief

"Chocolate. Everybody loves chocolate. Trust me, Luke. I babysit toddlers. Chocolate is the way into the heart."

"Uhh, I don't know, Lee. Have you ever seen Connor eat chocolate?"

"Travis loves chocolate. I'm sure Connor will too."

"They're not the same person."

Luke has a problem. A big, big problem. Connor's birthday is tomorrow. The decorations are set. The presents are made. Connor and Travis are blissfully unaware. All that is left now is picking a birthday cake, but the thing is, Luke has no idea what Connor likes. He eats only cereals in the morning, ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch, and chicken pot pies with mashed potatoes for dinner while Travis eats all and everything.

Sometimes Luke catches Connor snacking on an occasional cheeze its, but Connor hides it as soon as he notices someone is watching.

There's no such thing as a cereal, sandwich, mashed potato, cheeze it flavored cake.

Annabeth also doesn't know what Connor likes in a cake. But Lee guarantees him chocolate is the way to go and promptly filed a paper to take him out of Camp to the nearest bakery on his bike.

Now that he's here and all these cakes are staring him in the face, none of them scream like something Connor will like.

"This one."

"No."

"That one."

"No."

"How about this one?"

"No."

Lee picks up the nearest thing beside him. "Let's just give him a cupcake then. It'll be easy to finish if he doesn't like it."

But Luke shakes his head. They have to get something Connor will like.

Lee rolls his eyes and spins on his heel to face him. "Come on, Luke. Connor is a kid and kids love anything that is sweet. The sweeter it is, the better."

"Except Connor is a kid with issues." Luke bends to explain the cakes on the bottom row. Taro cake. Mousse. Cheesecake. "He's a picky eater. He's wary of everything. Do you know Connor still sleeps with his taser in his hands? It's been five months since he got here and he still thinks we're going to hurt him or Travis. I think it actually got worse after April Fools day."

Lee halts in the aisle and scratches his head apologetically. "... So my prank might have been in poor taste."

Luke rolls his eyes. "You think?"

"But he's getting better! He actually asked me to teach him an instrument a couple weeks ago and now I'm teaching him piano this week. That's tremendous progress. Actually, I think he's teaching Travis too. I catch them together sometimes in the music room. Do you think Travis is too shy to ask me?"

Luke pushes down the disgusting head of jealousy, biting his cheeks to stop a thoughtless response. He stares at the cakes for a few seconds and counts down from five, slowly saying, "Connor is nice to you. He even warmed up to Annabeth. Chris too sort of, but he still hates my guts. I have no idea why."

"Really? Did you make him mad?"

"No."

"Were you disrespectful of his personal space?"

"No."

"Maybe he feels something is off about you," Lee jokes.

"Or maybe it's your overbearing enthusiasm seeping into me. I need to stop hanging out with you. Goodbye forever, Lee," Luke ribs back, walking away to see more of the cakes.

"Hey! Me and my enthusiasm is going to bike you and your cake back to camp! You better apologize or my enthusiasm will be too sad to pedal back. We will have to walk back," Lee threatens, running to catch up to Luke and wincing when shoppers and employees alike glare at them.

Luke snorts. Like all-bark-no-bite Lee will ever follow through with his threat.

A cake catches his eye.

His gut is telling him to get this one. Thalia followed her gut instinct to follow the goat and it led her to him, to Aegis, and to Annabeth. It had never steered her own. His shouldn't either.

"I want that one, please."

* * *

Something off… about him?

What?

Why would there be something off with him?

* * *

May 21st

His gut was wrong.

His gut was so, so, so wrong.

Fuck his guts.

"So… you don't like your birthday cake?" Luke says dejectedly, watching the way Connor's nose wrinkles with disgust.

"Connor doesn't like M&Ms," Travis answers for him, smiling brightly. "But I'll eat all of it! I love chocolate."

"Woah, who would have guessed?" Lee says unhelpfully.

"It looks like an abomination," Annabeth adds, also unhelpfully.

"This is the ugliest cake I have ever seen. Why would you buy this?" Chris states, landing the punch that shatters his fragile sense of self-worth.

"Okay, well, since none of you liked it, only Travis and I will get to enjoy it," Luke snaps, tugging the cake closer to him.

"Oh come on, Luke."

"We're sorry. Let us have a bite."

Lee and Chris apologizes immediately while Annabeth is listing point by point how ugly the cake looks, how the baker failed in aesthetics, and how she would have improved it.

This whole situation is a mess.

Embarrassing. Horrifying. There are no words to describe how mortified he feels. Luke wishes he could go back in time and slaps himself in the face.

Lee and Chris are still apologizing. Annabeth is on his left asking him to lower the cake so she can critique it better. Travis is digging through the bakery bag for the plates and forks. Connor is on his right staring up at him with this look in his eyes that screams, ' _WHY?'._

Why, indeed, did he ever decided him buying the cake was the best plan when Lee knows what children love the best? When Lee probably, undoubtedly, has a secret power to get people to like him and his gifts? When Lee could have made Connor's first birthday at Camp Half Blood a special event rather than this crappy one?

"Luke?" Connor asks and oh, here goes. Time to have his beaten self-worth trashed even more.

"Why did you buy the cake?"

Why? Because I thought you would finally like me, but he can't very well say that. It sounds like something a creeper would say.

"Because you're my little brother and I wanted to do something special for your— No! I'm not going to lower the cake so you can see it better! Nobody except me and Travis are going to eat it. Lee and Chris, you guys get out of here — I wanted to do something special for your birthday. Sorry, I picked a cake you didn't like."

Connor's face twist into an expression he couldn't read. But Travis's smile brighten and he nudges Connor in the arm. "I told~ you! I'm right yet again—ack!"

Connor shoves Travis face first on top of the bed, face reddening. He stabs a fork in the cake, takes a bite, and makes the most disgusted face ever. But he swallows it.

"Thanks," Connor mutters under his breath before pulling Travis by the wrist to run out of the cabin, probably to Zeus's Fist.

Annabeth tugs on his shirt.

"You're the first person Connor ever said thank you to," she points out.

And Luke couldn't help his big, fat grin.

 **Author's notes: thank you for reading!**

 **I'm, uh, kinda floored by the reviews/comments on the last chapter? I kinda cried reading each of them and squealed in ecstasy to my friends, my parents, and my brothers about them? I'm kinda actually scared to post the next few chapters now in fear they will be shitty in comparison? I kinda should kick my posting anxiety to the curb? I kinda should stop rambling. I'm going to stop.**

 **I can't find the words to describe how thankful I am. I wish there was a machine to translate how I feel into words T-T**


	28. Luke — Strengths

Tag: Luke being the manipulative asshole we all know he is in book 1.

 **Luke** — **Strengths**

Luke 19 - Travis 13 - Connor 12

Late June

Mid- the lightning thief

Five years of blessed peace. And safety. And freedom.

And they turned out like this.

Weak-willed. Soft. Unfit.

They spent their days pranking.

They spent their days sleeping.

They spent their days without a care in the world.

Like their mother didn't deserted them. Like their father didn't abandoned them. Like the world didn't turn their back to them. Like the gods never disappointed them.

Pranks? Music? Education? None of that matters once you consider the fact that the average lifespan of a demigod is 21.

What's the point of studying? What's the point of life? What's the point of anything when you're going to die so young?

[Which one?]

Luke stares at his two half siblings play poker with Percy without a care in the world. Travis is undoubtedly more gifted than Connor when it comes to powers. His godly abilities and physical capabilities all outshine Connor. He can detect lies. He can pick locks. He has unlimited stamina. He has boundless energy.

But Connor —

Connor is —

[Which one do you want to recruit?]

"So, uh, tell me the plan one more time."

"Okay, listen close. Beckendorf's bed is our objective. His cabin is an iron fortress. Lasers are on every door and windows. It will activate an alarm and a golden rope will be thrown from above to catch you. It's uncuttable so don't get caught. I will disable the alarm for 10 seconds and you sneak in from the window in the back. Put the trap above his bed. I think it's bunk 9? I'm not really sure. You know what just place a trap above every bunk. Then make an owl sound and I will disable the alarm again so you sneak out. Wait for my signal before going. I will hoot back."

"What if Beckendorf comes back during that time?"

"Silena is with him."

Connor is the backbone. He brings the pranks into fruition. He's the mastermind, the one pulling the strings, a sharp mind that can rivals Annabeth's.

He's undoubtedly smarter.

Luke can acquire brawns no problem. The monsters can fill that role.

What he needs are brains.

"Connor," he says, blinking once to see himself in that empty prairie again,"You want Connor."

* * *

Author notes: thank you for reading! When people tell me they reread the chapters, I tend to reread themselves myself. I kinda change the ages of some of the chapters so they match the rest of the chapters.

I always post when I know I won't be able to check my email, like when I'm about to go to bed, or I have to take a test, or like now when I'm about to get on a 12+ hour plane ride! Thankfully, I am able to fall asleep anytime, anywhere with any noise level.


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